Thunderhearts
by Florencia7
Summary: Seven years after AWE somebody accidentally reveals his mysterious abilities that not only bring back ghosts but also put all the members of the Sparrow family in danger. Jack/Elizabeth, Post-Have We Met Before? [on HIATUS since 2011...]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was meant to be a short one-shot but I'm afraid it's going to have more than 10 chapters... lol Technically, the story is set a few years after the end of _Have We Met Before? _but if you haven't read it please just note that:

- Blaxton is Jack & Elizabeth's son, who through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances became immortal ^^ (however, nobody apart from his parents knows about it)

- Bill Turner is the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_

- Barbossa is dead (it wasn't easy to achieve so I'm not bringing him back no matter what lol)

**Summary:** Seven years after _AWE_ somebody accidentally reveals his mysterious abilities that not only bring back ghosts but also put all the members of the Sparrow family in danger. Jack/Elizabeth. Post-_HWMB?_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, and other _Pirates of the Caribbean_ characters.

**Thunderhearts**

**Chapter 1**

„Mum, you don't want to talk to ghosts?" Blaxton asked in astonishment, looking at Elizabeth who had staggered to her feet from where the three of them were sitting on the deck.

„Well, I think I will go to the galley to see if we have anything worth such guests, should they choose to appear," Elizabeth said with a smile, shaking her head at Jack when Blaxton averted his eyes from her.

Jack gave her a small pout while Blaxton went on examining all the herbs and strange liquids that surrounded them, a collection Jack had brought on board after their last visit on land.

„But Mum... aren't you _curious_ what ghosts will come?" Blaxton shifted his eyes between a small bottle in Jack's hand and Elizabeth.

Jack smirked.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Jack. „I am very curious and by all means do let me know as soon as you will succeed in inviting any," she said, smiling at Blaxton, although still eying all the ingredients sceptically, being actually more curious as to how Jack was going to avoid disappointing Blaxton when the mixture they were about to prepare would, obviously, fail to attract any spirits.

„I think Mum is afraid of ghosts," Blaxton said in a conspirational whisper when Elizabeth had walked away.

„Aye." Jack bit back a smile, pouring blue liquid into a bottle half-filled with herbs. „This might be it. Fortunately, we're here to protect her."

Blaxton nodded. „But we're not going to invite any evil ghosts. Right, Dad?"

„Of course not." Jack glanced at the darkening sky hoping that Ragetti would remember to change his voice while pretending to be a ghost. Making a ghost "appear" would have been too risky and Jack hoped that a mysterious voice would be for Blaxton entertaining enough. The evening sky and pale moonlight provided the appropriately ghastly atmosphere that would make the entire experience properly eerie.

„Dad, what kind of ghost are we going to invite first?" Blaxton handed Jack a small bowl of tiny, colorful flowers to which Jack had pointed.

"What kind of ghost would you like to invite, sailor?" asked Jack with a smile, shaking the bottle, the liquid inside quickly changing color. Jack narrowed his eyes, finding it a tad bit strange that the liquid had actually changed the color...

"Maybe somebody whom Mum knew? Maybe then she wouldn't be scared of ghosts anymore." Blaxton picked up a short, green stick, sniffed it, and then handed it to Jack.

Jack smiled. "That's a good idea," he said indicating a small, sparkling cube that was to be sprinkled into the mixture.

"Maybe..." Blaxton took the cube, squeezing it between his fingers, yellow dust falling into the liquid as he spoke. "Maybe Grandpa Weatherby?" he proposed, and Jack was about to answer when his eyes widened at the sight of the liquid inside the bottle suddenly beginning to boil.

"Dad, it's working, it's working!" Blaxton exclaimed in a joyous voice, while Jack stared at the bottle in slight dismay, trying to figure out what was happening.

All of a sudden, the sky darkened even more and a series of thunders growled above their heads.

"Not good." Jack muttered to himself, looking right and left.

"Did ye call meee?" A high-pitched voice came from behind one of the masts, and Jack rolled his eyes at Ragetti's frightful attempts to sound frightening.

"Dad!" Blaxton jumped to his feet trying to locate the source of the voice.

Jack rose to his feet in confusion when the ship began to sway, dark clouds overshadowing the moon at an instant. Either something very strange was happening or Ragetti was endowed with magical powers. Jack frowned, finding both scenarios equally discomfiting.

"Who are you?" Blaxton called excitedly, spinning around and hardly keeping his balance.

"Man overboard!" Marty called from the crow's nest, attracting the general attention, including Ragetti, who peered from behind the mast with a very nervous look on his face.

Jack wrinkled his forehead as Blaxton ran to the railing, squinting into the darkness.

Several lanterns were lit by the crew and to Jack's complete astonishment they soon noticed a body floating on the water surface.

Putting his hat on Blaxton's head, Jack along with other crew members slid down holding onto the ropes to pull the person out of the water.

As soon as they got close enough to see the man's face, Jack froze but quickly regained his composure, concentrating on getting the man out of the predicament before attempting to explain the unbelievable occurrence.

When everybody managed to climb back aboard, the man was placed on the deck, his pale face glistening in the moonlight.

Elizabeth, who at the sound of thunders had run from below and was now standing with Blaxton, stiffened, her eyes widening in shock.

"See, Mum?" Blaxton pulled her by the hand running toward the small gathering. "It's a ghost!" he exclaimed joyfully, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Ragetti scratched his head hoping that whatever had happened it was not his fault.

"It's not a ghost," whispered Elizabeth, her face as pale as the moon that suddenly peered from behind the clouds, the sky brightening, its color returning to its usual shade of evening blue.

"It's not a ghost indeed. "Jack leaned over the man, and then drew back. "Not anymore, at least," he said, turning his head toward Elizabeth and Blaxton. "He's breathing."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 2**

"Lizzie, I really have no idea-"

"You never have!" Elizabeth cut him off, and then slumped onto the bed with a sigh, hiding her face in her hands.

Jack's eyebrows knitted but for once he refrained himself from acting hurt as the situation was far from entertaining.

He closed the door and walked up to Elizabeth, squatting in front of her. "But it's more of a happy occurrence than of a sad occurrence, aye?" he prompted with a cautious smile, taking her hands in his, running his thumbs over the backs of her fingers.

Elizabeth looked at him with a small pout. "How can we know? How can we know what it means? How can we know if he even wakes up? What if he won't? What if-"

She broke off with a weak smile when Jack trailed several light kisses across the back of her hand.

"Six years of my tutelage and you're still worrying about the things before they actually happen, love?" he asked, squinting.

Elizabeth snorted. "Six years of your tutelage and I'm convinced I should always worry about everything because with you around everything can happen at any moment."

Grinning, Jack pulled her toward him causing her to slid off the bed to the floor and straight into his arms. He rolled them over and kissed her.

"You know, Lizzie, sometimes people do come back from the dead," he said, smiling down at her. "For good."

She gave him a faint smile in return. "I know," she said thoughtfully, cupping his face in her hands.

Jack smiled and then in a very solemn voice said: "I promise that if it turns out that he lost his memory we'll tell him that we know him."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, and then hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Jack!"

Smirking, Jack trailed small kisses across her lips. "Hush, love. Don't worry. Everything will be alright."

Elizabeth smiled brokenly. "It's just... I'm just scared it's only for a little while," she said, biting her lip.

Jack tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "In my arms, on our ship, how can you feel scared?" he asked in a low voice.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Mum! Dad!" The door burst open and Blaxton ran inside, almost tripping over his parents cuddled together on the floor.

"Yes?" Elizabeth asked as casually and calmly as possible, pushing Jack off her.

"Oi." Jack rubbed his forehead and adjusted his bandanna, turning around to face Blaxton, who looked between his parents in slight bafflement, wondering what they were doing. But since they were smiling at him everything seemed to be alright.

"Grandpa woke up!" he announced happily. "But he thinks I'm not real," he added with a pout.

Elizabeth blinked, struck by a sudden realization. "He'll have a heart attack," she whispered to herself, glancing at Jack, quickly rising to her feet, and running out of the cabin.

Blaxton looked at Jack who was still sitting on the floor, his eyebrows knitted. "Dad?" Jack's eyes shifted to him. "Who is Will Turner?" Blaxton asked, causing Jack's eyes to widen almost to the point of no return. "Grandpa was asking about him."

Jack pushed himself to his feet, frowning. "He was," he twitched his nose, brushing the dust off his shirt, "your Grandpa's neighbor."

The cabin door burst open, and Elizabeth ran back inside. "I look _terrible_," she muttered, searching one of the drawers, pulling a brush out of it, and quickly brushing her hair in front of a mirror.

"Mum," Blaxton ran to her, watching her arrange her hair. "You don't look terrible!" he said, amused by her words and behavior.

Elizabeth smiled at him, hurriedly tying up her hair and securing it with a hairpin. "Thank you, sweetheart. I just... want to look more like how your Grandpa remembers me. I haven't seen him in a long time," she added quietly, straightening her breeches, but then regarding them with a grimace, and quickly approaching one of the trunks under the window.

Jack was watching her with raised eyebrows.

Elizabeth pulled out a light blue dress and ran to the small adjacent cabin to change her clothes.

"Mum, do you mean Grandpa wouldn't recognize you in breeches?" Blaxton asked but Elizabeth could not hear him through the closed door. "I can recognize Mum in breeches and in dresses and in everything," he said, turning toward Jack. "Can you, Dad?"

"Aye." Jack nodded with a smirk, narrowing his eyes at Elizabeth when she walked out of the bedroom, a long dress fanning around her. "I can even recognize Mum in nothing," Jack added in a low voice when Elizabeth approached him, turning around so he could help her lace up the dress.

"Jack!" she hissed through her teeth, rolling her eyes.

Jack spun her around in his arms. "And what are you going to do with _me_, Lizzie? "

Elizabeth bit her lip, stifling a chuckle. "Nothing," she said after a moment of mock consideration, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to a lop-sided smile on his face.

"What about me, Mum?" asked Blaxton twirling one of the ribbons attached to her dress around his hand. "What are you going to do with me?" he echoed.

Elizabeth squatted down with a smile. "Nothing," she said, amused, taking Blaxton's face in her hands and kissing him on the forehead. "You two look absolutely dashing just the way you are." She stood up and whispered into Jack's ear. "Although it may take me a while to get across the very idea that you are."

Jack chuckled.

* * *

It was only after that charming figment of his imagination had left the room that it dawned on Governor Swann that he was not in a room.

He was in a cabin.

On a ship.

Staring blankly at the small window and the ocean beyond, he tried to remember what had happened... why was he on a ship? He tried to pinpoint the last thing he remembered. Strangely enough, it turned out to be an exceptionally difficult task as he could not get rid of the irritating, abstract conviction that... he had died.

Yet, he felt absolutely alive. He touched his face and he could feel his cold skin under his hands. He examined his wig. It looked tattered but ordinary. Maybe he had suffered in some kind of an accident? Whatever had happened, now he was either hallucinating or... Because that little boy had introduced himself as his grandson.

The Governor smiled faintly at the idea but his smile quickly faded, tears gathering in his tired eyes.

_Elizabeth._

Where was she? Was she alright? How much time could have passed since he had last seen her? What day it was today? What year?...

"Father!"

Elizabeth stopped abruptly in the doorway, almost breathless from joy at the sight of her father – awake, conscious, _alive_.

He looked at her with unseeing eyes, nervously blinking back the tears. He whispered her name, wishing that this illusion would last for a while, that it would last long enough to allow him a moment of joy, a moment of peace.

But somehow he could not make the hallucination freeze in time and space because it moved and ran to him.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking at him smilingly. "I can't believe you're here," she said in a faltering voice. "How do you... How do you feel?" she asked, laughing nervously.

"I'm... I guess... I..." Governor Swann looked at her in astonishment, slowly beginning to realize that she was not an illusion but a real person. "Elizabeth! You're not dead, are you?" he asked, his eyes roaming all over her face with anxiety.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, brushing the tears away from her face with the backs of her fingers. "No, I'm not."

"Am I dead?" he asked, confused by the memories flashing across his mind.

Elizabeth sighed, and took his hands in hers with a pained expression on her face. "I don't know," she said, smiling brokenly. "I don't know."

* * *

"Are we going to Shipwreck Cove?" Blaxton asked, following Jack to his desk.

"No." Jack sat down in his chair, helping Blaxton to climb onto his lap. "We're going to sail back to where I had bought those herbs that brought Grandpa back," he said pensively, scanning the map in front of him.

"Oh!" Blaxton leaned over the map as well. "We're going to buy more herbs to invite more ghosts!"

"Not before we ask that nice lady who sells the herbs a few questions," Jack said, wrinkling his forehead.

* * *

"Almost seven," Elizabeth said with a sigh.

"Seven?" The Governor shook his head in amazement. "We haven't seen each other in seven years?"

"Well, six years and eleven months," Elizabeth corrected with a small smile. Governor Swann was silent for a moment. "What is the last thing you remember?" Elizabeth asked cautiously, and he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze.

"Being stabbed," he replied after a pause. Elizabeth stiffened. "The last thing I remember is-" he trailed off, wrinkling his forehead. "No. Actually... The last thing I remember is... you," he said with a weak smile. Elizabeth squeezed his hands that were clasped in hers in response. "I remember telling you that I was dead..." he averted his eyes, looking pensively into the distance, trying to recall what had happened later but somehow no images came.

"Yes, I..." Elizabeth hesitated. "I don't know how to explain this but..." She smiled. "I think you came back," she said quietly.

Governor Swann wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Came back?"

* * *

It was fairly difficult to explain why he should consider it as such, nonetheless Jack felt as if they suddenly went back in time to when he should start calling his wife _Miss Swann_.

He looked at the map without seeing it, wondering whether the situation would affect Elizabeth in any way that could influence her perception of their life together... Would she find herself remembering what she had lost, the world she had left behind? Would she notice what she had disregarded before, that the series of choices she had made had irretrievably changed her lifeforever? Would she regret-

Blaxton's hand over his shook him out of his reverie. "Are we going to sail back there?" Blaxton asked, trying to slightly move Jack's hand to see what was under it on the map.

Jack smiled, watching Blaxton's small fingers follow the green-painted course. "Aye. We might need to hurry up a bit, if we still want to make it on time for Mum's Birthday at Shipwreck Cove," he added in a low voice, as Elizabeth's Birthday party was going to be a surprise one.

"Maybe we could tell Grandpa Weatherby about it too?" asked Blaxton suddenly struck by the idea. "I'll go see if Mum's still talking with him," he said, jumping off Jack's lap and running to the door.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to rest for some time yet?" Elizabeth looked at her father concernedly when he sat up, reaching for his boots.

"Yes, Elizabeth. Fresh air will certainly do me more good than lying here."

"Wait," Elizabeth put away his vest that was still soaked with sea water. "I will fetch you some dry clothes," she said rising to her feet.

"This shirt is almost dry-" Governor Swann protested with a warm smile, bringing his hands to his head, suddenly remembering about his wig.

"It's over there," Elizabeth said smilingly, pointing to the table. "Come in," she called, turning to the door when she heard quiet knocking. Blaxton opened the door and walked inside. "Oh, very well. You'll stay with Grandpa, and I'll go fetch dry clothes, alright?"

Blaxton nodded, climbing onto the bed next to the Governor who looked at him, hit by the sudden realization that if all of that was really happening, then the little boy was not a figment of his imagination either.

"Did you tell Grandpa your name?" Elizabeth asked, glancing at Blaxton who shook his head.

"I'm afraid I haven't given him a chance to do so," Governor Swann admitted good-humoredly.

"His name is Blaxton, and his second name is Weatherby," Elizabeth said with a smile. "I'll be right back," she said, opening the door and leaving the cabin.

"My second name is the same as your first one, Grandpa" Blaxton clarified, looking at his new Grandpa interestedly. He was much different than Grandpa Teague, and yet he evoked a similar sense of uncertainty as to what he was going to say or do next.

"It is," agreed the Governor, blinking back the tears in order not to cry in front of his grandson and try to make a more favorable impression, although he had to admit he did not have any experience in talking to a child. It was Elizabeth's Mother who was always in charge of all the conversations with Elizabeth, and it was not until he and Elizabeth had been left stranded without her that they had started to talk using not single words but full sentences. "I'm very glad that I can meet you." Governor Swann shook the child's hand smiling at the way the boy talked, tilting his head to the side and slightly pursing his lips just like Elizabeth had had when she was her son's age.

What puzzled him, however, was that while the boy did not look too alike Elizabeth, he could not trace in his face any similarities to Will Turner's face either... Neither Will nor Elizabeth had such black hair... Not to mention that when he had asked his grandson about Will Turner he had not seemed to even know who he was.

An incredulous suspicion crossed his mind but he decided to wait for Elizabeth in case he was wrong and his question would confuse the child.

"At first we thought you were a ghost," said Blaxton with a chuckle, regarding the Governor intently. "But you're not a ghost," he half-asked, tilting his head to the side. "If you want I can show you around the ship," he offered cheerfully.

"Thank you," Governor Swann smiled at him. "This actually might be a good idea. I was thinking about going to get some fresh air. We just need to wait for your Mother," he trailed off, finding it a bit strange to use the word in reference to his daughter. She did not change much, she looked almost exactly the same as he remembered her. Almost seven years... But she was still so young, or perhaps it was simply because to him she would always be a child, and the idea that she was a Mother now seemed so abstract, and it only made it clearer how much time he had missed, how many days had passed without him in her life. "She insisted that these clothes that I have are not dry enough."

"You were in the water. That's how they got wet," Blaxton said expertly. "Mum says it's not healthy to wear wet clothes. Mum and Dad and I have special coats that we wear when it's raining. They don't get wet because the rain can't get through them," he continued, gesticulating. "We can get one for you too," he added reassuringly.

Governor smiled at him, drawing reassurance from Blaxton's behavior and attitude. Surely, such a cheerful child could not have an unhappy life which could only mean that Elizabeth was happy too.

"I'm back," said Elizabeth with a smile, walking in, and wondering whether Blaxton had unintentionally managed to inform her father about their family situation... A part of her wished that she would not have to be the first witness to her father's facial expression upon learning who her husband was. But of course the other part knew it would be best if it was her who told him about it.

"Sweetheart, could you ask Mr. Ragetti for hot water? But don't carry it yourself, don't come too close, and-"

"I will be careful," cut in Blaxton, apparently knowing the entire warning pattern. He jumped off the bed and quickly left the cabin.

"You have a wonderful son, Elizabeth." Weatherby said with a warm smile.

Elizabeth sat down, placing folded clothes in her lap. "I know," she said with a smile.

"I thought you married William but-"

"No." Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Yes. I mean-" she bit her lip with a sigh. "It's a long story," she said, forcing a smile. She forgot just how many memories she had successfully forgotten over the past years.

"Did you marry James Norrington?" Governor Swann asked after a pause, and Elizabeth's eyes widened at a surprisingly hopeful note in his voice.

"No!" she gasped, smiling nervously. "Why would you think that?" she asked incredulously.

Her father shrugged his shoulders, and Elizabeth was amazed by a glimpse of disappointment flickering across his face, as if he had really considered it a likely possibility. "I just thought... because your son looks a little like James when he was his age... from what a remember at least."

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing out loud. "You didn't tell him that, did you?" she asked, amused, imagining the look on Jack's face should Blaxton announce him what Grandpa had said.

But the Governor shook his head. "No, no, I didn't."

"That's good. I have a quite jealous husband, you know," she added with a hint of amusement in her voice, wondering how she could tell her father about Jack in a possibly most harmless way.

The word _husband _seemed to make a visibly calming impression on Weatherby, although he still looked rather anxious.

"Father..." Elizabeth fiddled with the sleeve of a shirt she had brought. "Do you remember..." she dropped her gaze. "Do you remember... Jack?" she asked, gathering enough courage to look up.

Governor Swann raised his eyebrows and blinked. "Jack?" Elizabeth nodded. "Jack Marbury?" Weatherby asked after a moment of intense concentration, widening his eyes at her, vaguely recalling a son of his old friend, not a particularly handsome young man-

"No," Elizabeth chuckled, hiding her face in her hands and then uncovering it to look at her father again.

"Jack Stanton?!" Weatherby exclaimed in dismay, suddenly remembering another friend's son, a notorious gambler who had lost half of his family's fortune-

"No!" Elizabeth did not know whether she should laugh or cry. She took the clothes off her lap, and straightened up, meeting her father's baffled gaze. Taking a deep breath, she said: "Jack Sparrow."

Her father still looked at her in confusion.

Or perhaps it was not confusion but instant denial.

Elizabeth smiled timidly and repeated in a low voice: "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! And for your support after April 10th *hugs*

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 3**

"A coat," Jack raised his eyebrows, picturing Governor Swann run across the deck during a storm, holding to the rail with one hand, his other hand struggling to keep his wig in place.

"I promised Grandpa we would get him a coat, just like ours. He doesn't have a coat," Blaxton said, for a moment just watching Jack pick up pieces of garment from the floor before deciding to join him. "Do we have to clean all the cabins again?" he asked with a bit of worry in his voice. There were decidedly too many such mornings when Elizabeth would wake everybody up, and to general dismay order thorough cleaning of the entire ship.

Jack stifled a chuckle. "No, although..." he put a finger to his chin as if in deep thought. "It might actually be a good idea."

Blaxton frantically shook his head, wincing. "It's not even morning now!" he complained. "It's already after the b-" he broke off, hoping that the careless almost-remark would pass unnoticed.

"Ah!" Jack exclaimed triumphantly, causing Blaxton to pout, although he already knew it was quite pointless, because pouting usually worked better with Mum. "Thank you for pointing that out, sailor. It is indeed after the bedtime already."

"But Dad, I promised Grandpa to show him around the ship!" Blaxton protested.

"I think it'll be decidedly better to do so during the day when he'll be able to see what you'll be showing him." Jack winked.

Blaxton considered this for a moment, finding the point valid, although he was reluctant to admit it. "We could take oil lamps with us," he tried in a hesitant voice.

"I think Grandpa had enough of an adventure for one day," said Jack, and to end the discussion hoisted Blaxton up in the air to carry him to his cabin.

"I'm not even tired," muttered Blaxton as they walked across the corridor. "I think I don't need to sleep today _at all_," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Of course you don't," agreed Jack. "But if you have no intention of falling asleep, then there is no need for a bedtime story, is there?"

Jack waited a moment for a reply but it never came. He looked at his son whose head was resting against his shoulder and smiled at the sight. Blaxton was fast asleep already.

* * *

"Are you going to say something, father?" Elizabeth asked carefully with a hesitant smile.

Governor Swann just kept looking at her, and she did not think she could stand the silence any longer.

"Elizabeth... I'm so sorry," he said at last, causing her eyebrows to knit in confusion. "It's my fault. Everything. I'm so sorry. You were left all alone, with nobody to turn to, our estate gone, everyone, everything... gone-"

"Father-"

But the Governor was not to be interrupted. A dark scenario had already created itself in his mind, and he almost believed that he had guessed the entire story at an instant. Cutler Beckett and the Company must have ruined their name, their reputation, and Elizabeth must have been left to fend for herself – whatever had happened to William Turner. So she had turned to somebody she had known, if only remotely, if only somebody as untrustworthy and despicable as that pirate; but she had had nowhere to go, and it was a matter of survival. She had probably tried to choose lesser evil, she had sacrificed her happiness and herself to save her life-

"But you must not worry. I will find a way to get you out of here."

"Father-"

"Or did he kidnap you?" The Governor asked, suddenly struck by yet another plausible version. Yes, it was possible too. That pirate must have kidnapped her and now he was blackmailing her, threatening to separate her from her child if she decided to leave. There was no easier way to threaten a mother-

"Father!" Elizabeth exclaimed in exasperation. "Please. I promise I will tell you everything. But as I said it's a very long story and I think we should postpone it until tomorrow. You should rest and get some sleep and tomorrow we will come back to this conversation and I will tell you about everything that happened to me since... since that moment when I had disappeared from that carriage in Port Royal," she said with a sad smile, recalling the day, suddenly realizing it was the last time she had seen her father alive... until now.

Governor Swann did not seem satisfied with that answer. "Elizabeth. How can I help you? I promise I will find a way to carry you and your son to safety-" He trailed off when Elizabeth laughed, more out of frustration than anything else.

"Father. I do not need any help," she said distinctly, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm completely, perfectly, utterly _happy_."

Weatherby frowned. "Elizabeth."

"I would rather die than be taken away from him so please don't try convincing me that I don't love him," she said quietly in a suddenly very serious voice.

Governor Swann stared at her, apparently trying to process what she had just said. "You love him," he echoed in slight disbelief, looking at her with wide eyes. "How long have you been here?" he asked, glancing around, the name of the ship floating back to him from that other reality that seemed to be no longer valid.

"We've been married for six years now and we've never had a single serious argument," she said with a smile. Weatherby, however, still looked distressed. "You just need to get to know him better, and I'm sure you'll find that-"

"He's a better man than I give him credit for," Governor Swann cut in, and Elizabeth's smile faded.

"I believe so," she said a bit stiffly, wondering if her father was pointing out to her the inconsistency of her choices, or rather suggesting that when she had said those words in the past she had meant somebody else already.

Weatherby was silent for a while. "You cannot blame me for doubting him, Elizabeth. The image of him pressing a pistol to your head is nearly the only memory that I have of this man," he said at last in a low voice.

"I would think that rescuing me from drowning was a more important part of it," observed Elizabeth, narrowing her eyes in a small smile.

For the first time Governor Swann returned her smile, if only for a brief moment. "I do remember about that as well."

"That's the only part that is known to Blaxton for now. Just so you know, in case he would mention it to you. We visited Port Royal a couple of months ago and reenacted that part for him," she said, laughing at the memory.

The Governor blinked. "You visited Port Royal? Wasn't it dangerous, considering-"

"Yes, it was. But we wanted to show Blaxton how we had met."

"I see," Weatherby said slowly, trying to imagine such a reenactment but failing.

They both turned their heads toward the door when someone knocked and pushed the door open.

Ragetti entered the room with a steaming bowl in his hands. "Water," he announced, asking Elizabeth where to put it.

Carefully, he placed the bowl at table, glancing repeatedly at the Governor.

"You may go, Elizabeth." Governor Swann said when Ragetti had left the cabin. "I think you're right. I'll just go to sleep now, and we'll talk about everything tomorrow. Late night conversations rarely lead to sensible conclusions," he smiled faintly.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want you to think that you need to worry about me," she said softly. "I have a very beautiful life. It may not be an ordinary one, or even less a safe one but we're really trying not to entangle ourselves in any perilous situations, if only for Blaxton's sake. We're more of treasure hunters right now, really."

Weatherby snorted humorlessly under his breath. "Treasure hunters." He shook his head. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy," he added after a pause, looking away with a pensive expression on his face. "But-"

Elizabeth slumped onto the bed next to him. "I am happy, father! You can't imagine how happy I am."

"I can't indeed," he admitted, shaking his head in bafflement.

Elizabeth laughed.

* * *

Cotton squinted against the rain, stepping up to take the helm for the third time within the last hour, while Jack stormed off again, finding it difficult to decide whether he should wait for Elizabeth in their cabin or rather take the night shift to avoid... Well, he was not sure what it was that a part of him wanted to avoid, but he was sure he wanted to avoid it nonetheless. He wondered whether something would change now, now that a part of Elizabeth's past was restored...

He pushed the Captain's Quarters door open, and walked inside.

"Where have you been?" Elizabeth ran to him, pulling him toward her by the lapels of his coat as soon as he had entered, her lips brushing the rain off his lips with sweet, familiar swiftness.

Without a word, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

"I'm not used to night shifts without you near," he muttered when they finally broke apart, gasping for air.

Elizabeth smirked. "I am near. I'm aboard," she countered, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

"Nearer," Jack breathed, opening his eyes and then leaning to kiss her again when she laughed.

Elizabeth pushed his coat off his shoulders and tossed his hat onto the table.

"I actually tried to introduce some order here," Jack whispered against her neck.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabin. "I'm glad you told me. It's rather difficult to notice."

"I said I _tried_."

Elizabeth snorted, throwing his shirt over a chair. "You're very handsome in the dark, Captain Sparrow," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands.

Jack twitched his nose. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment."

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't need to see you to see you," she whispered. "Savvy?"

Jack smiled at her impishly, hands sliding up her back. "We need to lock the door," he said, suddenly drawing back.

Elizabeth shook her head, stifling a chuckle. "I'm afraid my father's current attitude toward our marriage will prevent him from even knocking on this door. He wouldn't risk coming face to face with you just yet."

"You told him?" Jack widened his eyes at her.

"Of course!"

"What did he say?" Jack asked, trying to keep amusement out of his voice.

"Well, he was slightly... baffled. He just finds it a tad bit difficult to believe I could fall in love with someone who had threatened me in such an outrageous manner."

"You should tell him about the Kraken. That way he would know we're a perfect match," Jack said, smirking.

Elizabeth glared at him. He pressed his lips against hers, and closed her in his arms, kissing her until she gave up pretending that she was angry. He broke the kiss and kissed her eyelids before hoisting her up into his arms.

"Jack, wait."

He stopped abruptly in his tracks. "What is it?"

"I have to go."

He blinked. "Where?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "My father is on the deck. I need to walk him back to his cabin and... Well, I was actually thinking about waiting for him to fall asleep," she admitted with a small smile. "He used to wait for me to fall asleep..."

"But you will be back?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm going to jump off the ship immediately afterwards." She waited for her words to sink in before continuing. "Of course I'll be back! What kind of question is this?"

Jack shrugged. "I just thought... that you might... suddenly realize... you'd rather be... somewhere else? right now?" He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes locked.

"Somewhere else?" She frowned, perplexed. "Where?"

He sighed. "Port Royal? England?"

"Did you drink too much or too little rum today?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jack gave her a lop-sided smile. "So you don't regret anything at all, Lizzie?"

"I regret burning the rum," Elizabeth recited with a sigh. "Does this answer makes you happy?"

Jack chuckled, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing.

* * *

He could not remember why he had never stayed on deck after the sunset. Those couple of times he had been on a ship, it had never crossed his mind to simply lean against the rail and listen to the sea, breathe in the air that almost had a taste. It tasted of hope, of conviction that everything mattered, that there was a point to everything, and that nothing was lost as long as he could close his eyes and still feel the wind on his face, still find the strength to dream...

The _Black Pearl_. For some reason the fact that he was now on this ship seemed to him even stranger than the fact that he was alive.

He smiled to himself humorlessly, dwelling over Elizabeth's words. According to what she had said he _had died_ almost seven years ago. Her last memory of him was the same as his so it must have been true that he- And yet here he was. Feeling very much alive.

Gripping the rail with his hands, Weatherby tried to remember what had happened after Elizabeth had disappeared from his view... It was dark... but there were lights all around him... Unfortunately, he could not remember anything more. Just those lights in the darkness.

He sighed, his thoughts turning to his daughter and the life she was living now. On this ship. With that man.

His eyebrows knitted in thought as he tried to relive his former suspicions. Of course he would not prefer to see her unhappy but somehow he would find it easier to believe if she was here against her will. Or perhaps it would just be more acceptable. But it was next to impossible to still believe in that grim scenario, if only for the light in her eyes, the way she smiled. She had never smiled that much before. She had rarely laughed. He thought it was a part of her personality that she had never laughed much. But it must have been something else. It must have been simply because she had not been happy... enough, before.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

The Governor turned his head at the sound of Elizabeth's voice.

"The sea," she amended with a smile. "In the moonlight."

They were silent for a while, looking out at the sea.

"Oh, and Blaxton won't come to wish you a good night. He quite involuntarily fell asleep," she said with a smile.

Governor Swann smiled back. "I'm sure he had a long day. When you were his age you'd be asleep a long time ago already."

Elizabeth bit back a smile, deciding to keep to herself the truth about her small secret adventures taking place when her father had thought she was sleeping.

"He actually goes to sleep quite early. The problem is that once he's in bed, we usually tell him a story, and very often the story gets very, very long, and he does what he can in order not to fall asleep before the end of the story."

There was something in her father's eyes that made Elizabeth certain he was struggling to picture her and Jack telling a fairy tale to Blaxton.

"Tomorrow I'll be waiting for you to tell me your story, " he said at last.

Elizabeth nodded. "Of course. This one will be exceptionally long too," she smiled.

* * *

Blaxton woke up to a strange sound echoing in his ears. He sat up in his bed, looking drowsily at the dark cabin window.

"Yo ho, yo ho!"

He darted his eyes to the desk where he noticed his Mum's parrot, and for a moment he thought that it was the parrot that was the source of the noise but soon he heard the sound again. The parrot fell silent as well and for a moment the two of them were motionless, listening.

* * *

Leaning over him, and brushing a dreadlock off Jack's face, Elizabeth looked at him intently in the dimly lit cabin to see if he was really asleep.

Jack smiled, and she snorted, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Notorious liar."

"Thank goodness for that for if I wasn't you probably wouldn't be here right now," Jack said in a low voice, rolling onto his back.

"This again?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "You can't know that for certain," she said softly, propping her chin on her hands intertwined on his chest.

He smiled, bringing his hand to her face. "But I know for certain that now you're here." He slid his hand into her hair. "Besides, lies are only shadows of the truth. They don't hide it. They represent it. Nothing tells you as much about a person as the way they lie. You should change your unfavorable opinion of lies, love," he said with a smile, sifting her hair through his fingers.

"I don't want you to ever lie to me, Jack," she said in a serious voice, looking deeply into his eyes, the familiar depth of his black, mesmerizing gaze making her always think of drowning, but the thought was not terrifying for he was always there to catch her, reach her, save her.

"I just said that I don't, Lizzie," he whispered with a smile, cupping her cheek with his hand.

She raised her head, and pulled herself a bit higher so her face hovered just above his. "What does the fact that you don't lie to me tells me about you, then?"

As always, his lop-sided smile made her heart flutter. "That I'm in love with you." He cupped her face in his hands and wanted to kiss her but her stifled laughter stopped him. "What is it?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead.

"You always say that in bed," Elizabeth said, clearly amused.

Jack glanced right and left. "What I always say in bed?" he asked, confused.

"That you love me. You never say that you love me when we're in the galley or at the helm or-"

"That's not true," Jack objected with a frown.

"Yes, it is," Elizabeth giggled, tossing a pillow at him.

"No, it isn't," he said, catching the pillow. "I said it a countless number of times in a countless number of places," he said with a twitch of his nose, narrowing his eyes at Elizabeth when she burst out laughing. "Lizzie," he said warningly.

"Oh, you're actually right," she said, her face suddenly turning serious as she sat up in bed, her eyebrows knitted in thought. "We weren't in a bed when you said it for the first time," she said matter-of-factly and because of the semi-darkness around them Jack did not notice the amusement twinkling in her eyes.

"I knew it," he said complacently.

"We were standing right next to it," Elizabeth added and laughed again, trying to throw another pillow at him but he grabbed it before she could reach it, tossed it aside and pulled her into his arms, crashing his lips against hers.

* * *

It was not exactly a voice that he heard. The sound was simultaneously rustling and howling, and it seemed to be everywhere.

Climbing up the stairs, Blaxton was stilling his movements every once in a while to make sure that the noise was still audible.

When he arrived on the main deck the remnants of the earlier ghosts calling ceremony were still present, as after Governor Swann's appearance nobody had felt like thinking about cleaning the deck or doing anything else for that matter, except for discussing the amazing event.

Squatting down next to the mysterious ingredients, Blaxton studied them for a moment trying to remember which little bottle contained the boiling liquid.

But then, he heard the strange noise again, and jumping to his feet he ran to the rail.

* * *

"Do you think she'll be able to explain this?" Elizabeth asked in a whisper, tapping her fingers over Jack's chest.

"It was her herbs that caused it so I imagine she might have an idea," Jack answered in a low voice, tightening his embrace around her, taking her hand in his with his other hand and sliding his fingers in between hers. "We'll be there tomorrow so we'll find out soon enough."

Elizabeth pressed her cheek to his skin and closed her eyes. "You're right. I just wish I knew already."

He brought their entwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

* * *

"Ye cheated!" Pintel said peevishly, looking between his and Ragetti's cards.

"No, I didn't." Ragetti shook his head.

"Yes, ye did."

"No, I didn't".

"Ye did!"

"There is somebody in the water again!"

Both Pintel and Ragetti looked up.

"Shouldn't ye be asleep at this hour?" Pintel asked after a pause.

Blaxton ignored him. "There is somebody in the water again!"

"A dead person again?" Pintel's eyebrows knitted in thought.

"It wasn't a dead person last time. A ghost, more like," cut in Ragetti, looking absently into the distance.

"We have to fish him out!" Blaxton exclaimed impatiently, glancing toward the rail.

"A ghost _is_ a dead person," Pintel said decidedly giving Ragetti a stern look.

Ragetti shook his head. "A ghost isn't a person."

"But it's _dead_!" hissed Pintel through his gritted teeth.

"We weren't ghosts when we were dead," insisted Ragetti in a low voice.

Pintel rolled his eyes. "We weren't dead. We were _cursed_. Immortal," he added with a hint of longing in his voice.

Blaxton shifted his eyes between them, trying to interrupt but the situation seemed hopeless, so he turned on his heels and ran below deck.

* * *

"I don't know if he could go back to England. How could he explain his absence? Too many years have passed. Not to mention..." Elizabeth trailed off with a sigh.

"Lizzie, there will be plenty of time to think about that," Jack said into her hair. "Now the most important thing is-"

"Mum! Dad!"

Jack and Elizabeth almost fell off the bed even though the door was locked, and a moment later loud knocking followed.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Elizabeth asked, grabbing Jack's shirt before he reached it, and putting it on.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, and she snickered at him in return, throwing his coat at him.

"There is another ghost in the water!" Blaxton called through the door causing his parents' eyes to widen, the smiles disappearing from their faces.

* * *

"Being immortal ain't equal being cursed," Ragetti reasoned in a patient voice.

Pintel groaned in exasperation. "But being mortal equals being not cursed!"

Ragetti shook his head in disagreement. "We were mortal when we got cursed."

Jack, Elizabeth, and Blaxton walked passed Pintel and Ragetti without paying any attention to them.

"Where did you spot that new ghost?" asked Jack, lifting the lantern to the level of his face.

"Right..." Blaxton leaned over the rail, pointing to the sea, "here!"

Jack and Elizabeth squinted into the darkness and to their stupefaction noticed a human form floating on the water.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 4**

Weatherby woke up to the first rays of sun, the cabin so full of light that for a moment he just admired the glowing surroundings before he decided to get up.

He felt both tired and rejuvenated, a strange combination that made him wonder about the situation again. According to what Elizabeth had said, they were going to obtain an explanation today.

Explanation concerning him, he thought with a humorless smile - an answer to the question whether he was dead or alive.

With a sigh and a frown he approached a bowl filled with water to refresh himself, the realization that he was on a ship hitting him again when the floorboards cracked beneath his feet.

Had somebody told him several years ago that his daughter would have been living on a ship, would have been married to a pirate...

He pressed a piece of water-soaked cloth to his face trying to remind himself that she had said she was happy here.

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth had spent a better part of the night pacing around the ship and talking, trying to figure out what was going on.

Blaxton had at last fallen asleep, even though it had taken some time for Jack and Elizabeth to reassure him that they would wake him up immediately, should any more ghosts appear.

When early in the morning they had at last decided to retreat to their cabin, several crew members had been assigned to keep a watchful eye on the sea surface in case any more _ghosts _would decide to pay a visit.

"At least they're all friendly so far," offered Elizabeth in a low voice receiving a doubtful look in return.

"He delivered the heart of Davy Jones to Beckett," Jack said, squinting. "Very _friendly_ of him indeed."

Elizabeth, who was sitting in Jack's lap stifled a yawn, leaning her head against his shoulder. "He regretted it."

"Why am I under the impression you're defending him?" Jack asked, tilting back his head.

"I'm not not defending him." Elizabeth lifted her head narrowing her eyes at Jack. "But he did die helping me-" she started after a pause in a thoughtful voice.

"Ah!" Jack cut her off. "So now he is a hero."

Elizabeth gasped in exasperation. "Do you always have to find yourself somebody to be jealous of?"

"I'm not jealous! And I don't need to be finding anybody. They show up by themselves," he said with a frown.

"What?" Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. "We can't go ashore _anywhere_ without running into at least one woman that has lots of interesting memories of _you_!"

Jack smirked. "Now _you_ are jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. "I'm merely stating the obvious."

"Because you're jealous," insisted Jack, his smile widening.

"I'm not jealous." Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest giving him a stern look.

"Why can't you just admit it? Nobody would blame you," he said complacently, twitching his nose.

Elizabeth bit back a smile. "I couldn't be jealous even if I wanted to," she said enigmatically, capturing Jack's interest. He looked at her questioningly, and she rested her forehead against his. "You mutter my name in your sleep," she said with a smile.

Jack looked at her for a moment, biting back a smile on his own. "I hate to tell you this, love, but you have a very popular name."

Elizabeth froze, and then took his hat from the desk and put it roughly on his head. "You're despicable!" she said, sliding off his lap, and making to walk away.

But he swiftly rose to his feet and grabbing her by the hand pulled her back into an embrace. "Easy on the goods, darling," he whispered huskily, and kissed her ardently before she had the time to laugh.

* * *

Governor Swann tried to decide whether he should knock or not, his hand suspended in the air. He was about to knock but raised voices stopped him. It was merely the break of the day and they were already arguing? It could not be good. He should have known. He should not have believed her when she had said she was happy.

"_You're despicable!"_

Weatherby heard Elizabeth's voice on the other side of the door, and gritting his teeth, quickly made up his mind. He could not just stand here while Elizabeth might come to harm. Who knew what that man was capable of?

The Governor pressed the knob and walked in-

His breath caught and he stopped dead in his tracks accidentally causing a bottle sitting on the nearby table to crash to the ground.

Only then Jack and Elizabeth broke the kiss and turned their hands, and Elizabeth was certain she had never seen her father so pale and with such wide eyes.

For a moment the three of them just stared at each other until something in Jack's mind snapped and very quickly he withdrew his hands from where they were firmly placed under Elizabeth's shirt. As if it could make the situation any better he hid his hands behind him forcing a small smile while Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself in embarrassment, blushing. She was wearing only Jack's shirt while Jack was wearing only his breeches and they stood there like children caught red-handed on sneaking into the kitchen.

"Good morning, father," Elizabeth managed to stammer at last, and the cabin fell silent once again. "You haven't met yet!" she added suddenly, desperate to say something.

She glanced at Jack who understood her immediately, and in an effort to change the mood took a step toward the Governor and introduced himself with a smile. Governor Swann, apparently feeling forced to do so by Elizabeth's encouraging smile extended his hand to him, and Jack extended his, but then they both froze and Jack dropped his hand rather abruptly, imagining that perhaps it was not the best idea to offer the Governor the same hand that a moment ago was so comfortably closed around-

"How do you feel?" Elizabeth asked quickly, jumping between them. "Did you sleep well?" she asked with a nervous smile wondering whether her face was as flushed as her father's was at the moment.

"Yes," the Governor answered stiffly.

Elizabeth smiled at him brightly. "I'm glad you did."

"I think I'll go take... take the helm," Jack cut in a low voice, wriggling his fingers in the air, still uncertain what to do with his hands, having an impression that the Governor did what he could in order to avoid looking at his hands.

"Oh, alright," said Elizabeth with another bright smile, trying to sound casual.

Out of a habit Jack leaned down to kiss her before walking away but stopped himself at the last moment. He drew back but at the same time Elizabeth leaned toward him, the same realization causing her to draw back with equal swiftness. They repeated the same pattern twice until finally their lips met in an awkward half-kiss, before Jack turned toward the door.

"Jack, wait. You have no shirt," she called struck by the idea.

Jack turned around. "That's right."

Elizabeth smiled, and her hand flew to the shirt she was wearing but a dismayed look on Jack's face saved her another disastrous gesture, and fortunately she managed to prevent herself from doing what she would have done if they were alone.

"I'll give you another one," she mumbled, turning on her heels and squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment as she walked toward one of the cabinets.

Jack waited patiently by the door, glancing at the Governor who stood with his eyes fixed on an unidentifiable point in space.

Elizabeth handed Jack a new shirt and he quickly squeezed her hand giving her a small, reassuring smile before leaving the cabin.

"I heard raised voices and I was afraid you might need help," the Governor started explaining himself as soon as Elizabeth closed the door behind Jack.

"I told you we never really argue," she said softly with a small smile.

"You did," Weatherby said cautiously. "I'm sorry. I just-"

"I know," Elizabeth cut in, and he shifted his eyes to her. "I know you're worrying about me. But there is no need. We should worry about you right now."

"Don't ask me not to worry about you, Elizabeth. I'll always worry about you. That's more certain than death," he added with a faint smile.

* * *

"Dad?" Blaxton twitched his nose, following Jack up the stairs. "Where are your boots?"

"It's healthy to walk around bare-footed every once in a while," Jack said with a twitch of his own.

"Oh," acknowledged Blaxton, stopping to look at his boots, but then he ran to catch up with Jack. "Dad! Did that other ghost woke up?" he asked causing Jack to turn on his heels.

"You're right. We should check on him, shouldn't we?"

"Do you think more ghosts will come?" Blaxton asked excitedly, taking two steps foot by foot and then taking a small jump, repeating the pattern as he followed Jack down the corridor.

"I don't mind them coming every day as long as they remain, as your Mum puts it, _friendly_."

Just when they stopped in front of one of the doors it burst open causing them to step backwards.

James Norrington staggered outside, supporting himself against the door frame, his eyes closed.

"He did wake up!" Blaxton exclaimed happily, causing James' eyes to snap open.

For a moment he stared at the people before him, apparently trying to make sense of the situation. He seemed weak and exhausted, or perhaps it was just the overwhelming sense of confusion that made him look rather miserable.

He focused on Jack and after a moment of suspenseful silence whispered hoarsely: "I'm in hell."

The certainty in his voice made Jack smile in amusement. "Not even a close guess, mate. You're on the _Black Pearl_."

James blinked, running his hand across his forehead, his eyes absently roaming around the corridor for a moment. At last he snorted and put his head in his hands. "Not a close one indeed," he muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing review! :]

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 5**

"Grandpa Weatherby wasn't in the Navy but he has a wig too," Blaxton said, his legs dangling as he was sitting on a tall stool looking intently at James who was seated across from him at the table.

"Not only people who are in the Navy wear wigs," James replied, barely understanding the words he was hearing and saying, still trying to figure out what was going on. He looked at the water and the food in front of him not feeling like eating or drinking anything. He was not sure if he was thirsty or hungry, although somewhere deep inside he knew he should be. He struggled to remember what had happened, how he had happened to arrive in that particular place. Was he here because he wanted to? Was he taken hostage? On which side was he? On which side Jack Sparrow was? Where was Elizabeth? How many days had passed since-

"_Grandpa Weatherby"_, the expression suddenly floated back to him. He blinked and then slowly shifted his gaze to look at Blaxton.

"Do girls who are in the Navy have to wear wigs too?" Blaxton asked, propping his head on his elbows.

"There are no women in the Navy," James answered, finding the conversation exceedingly surreal. He did not have any idea who this child might be. At first he had thought he was a miniature version of Jack Sparrow. He would not be surprised if hell turned out to be full of Jack Sparrows. Or perhaps the boy was just a figment of his imagination. Like everything else. He was only imagining the situation he was in. Maybe he had lost consciousness after being injured and now he was merely dreaming. He remembered hearing tales about people having strange dreams while laying unconscious.

"At all?" Blaxton's eyes widened in surprise.

James slowly shook his head. "It's not a place for women. Women don't fight," he said, running his hand across his face, the dark deck of the _Flying Dutchman_ flashing across his mind.

"My Mum does fight," countered Blaxton.

James darted his eyes to him.

* * *

"Cap'n-"

"If you're going to tell me that there are more _ghosts _swimming around, do wait until I'll fetch more rum from the cellar," said Jack stiffly, narrowing his eyes at Ragetti.

Ragetti blinked. "We made port," he said uncertainly.

"That's better," Jack said, smiling approvingly.

* * *

"James died?" The Governor wrinkled his forehead.

Elizabeth nodded. "He believed you had been sent back to England and when I told him what had really happened... I guess he understood that the choices he had made were wrong and wanted to make everything right, but unfortunately... he died while helping me to escape from the _Flying Dutchman_ where me and my crew were locked in the brig-"

"You and your crew?"

Elizabeth smiled, lacing her hand through her father's arm. "I was made a Captain of the _Empress_ which is now under Mr. Gibbs' command. Do you remember Mr. Gibbs, father? Well. _Captain _Gibbs, he is now. And me... I was the Pirate King for a while," she added, looking at her father with a smile.

"Pirate King?" Weatherby began to doubt he would ever make sense of the story Elizabeth was trying to recount.

"Yes. But now I'm the Queen, and Jack is the King," she said with a chuckle.

The Governor shook his head, the difficulties he had trying to understand everything she was saying clear on his face. "Queen," he repeated in a low voice. "That's closer to what I had in mind thinking about your future," he added after a pause, and Elizabeth laughed happily at the first glimpse of humor in her father's eyes, even though she could see that he was still rather far from being happy about the entire situation and the life she was living.

* * *

"And your mother's name?" James asked in a strained voice, trying to recall all he had ever heard and read about dreams. It was possible that they were mere reflections of one's wishes, thoughts, fears-

"Lizzie Sparrow," Blaxton promptly answered his question.

James stared at him blankly.

The door opened, and Elizabeth and her father walked inside. James jumped to his feet as fast as his headache would allow.

"Hello James," Elizabeth said with a hesitant smile, leaning down to hug Blaxton who had run to her.

Governor Swann who had been just told by her what had happened and that James was also found floating in the water walked up to him.

"Apparently, we're soon to discover why we're here. I'm no wiser at the moment," Weatherby said, only a moment later beginning to suspect that the fact of being alive was not the main reason for a troubled and confused look painted on James' face.

"Lizzie?" Jack peered inside the galley. "May I ask you for a moment?"

James placed his hands on the table, supporting himself as his legs suddenly felt too weak to support him. _"May I have a moment?" _It had to be a dream. It had to be his dream, otherwise why would he hear phrases from the past? It all made sense. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe not at all.

Elizabeth whispered a few words to Blaxton and rose to her feet, glancing at the Governor and James before walking out of the cabin.

"I'm going ashore," Jack said, closing the door, and drawing her closer to him. "Any wishes?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes. Find out what's going on," Elizabeth said, narrowing her eyes at him and sliding her open palms over his shoulders.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I know that. I meant _apart_ from that."

Elizabeth widened her eyes in exaggerated confusion.

"Be back soon, Jack?" he offered with a small pout.

"Oh." Elizabeth acknowledged, amused. "Yes, yes. Of course. Be back soon, Ja- Ja... Jack? Right?"

The pout deepened and she smiled, trailing small kisses across his lips.

* * *

"What is that?" Pintel grimaced, leaning over the rail with his eyes narrowed.

"Looks like a dress," Ragetti replied doubtfully. "Dresses don't float, though," he added with a shrug.

"How do ye know?" Pintel asked giving him a skeptical look.

"Have ye ever seen a floating dress?" After a moment of consideration Pintel shook his head. "See? They don't float."

They looked down at the water again but then both of them jumped away from the rail with muffled screams.

They stood frozen to the spot for a moment before slowly shifting their eyes to each other.

Wide-eyed, Pintel whispered. "It moved."

Ragetti nodded.

* * *

"This is not a dream," James said more to himself than to anybody else.

"No, it isn't," said Elizabeth with a sigh. "But that's the best part of it," she smiled.

"Strange occurrences are usually followed by aftermaths," James said after a pause.

"There is no reason to think about that just yet," Elizabeth countered, wrapping her arms around Blaxton who had climbed onto her lap, a bit perplexed by not being included in the conversation.

"Perhaps we should hope for the best while we still can," Governor Swann said with a faint smile.

James stared absently into the distance trying to collect his thoughts, his memories...

"Mum?" Blaxton caught a single lock of Elizabeth's hair, as the rest of them was unfortunately tied up with a piece of black lace.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asked leaning her cheek on the top of his head.

James shifted his eyes to them, the scene before and around him so strange, everything so different... Could it really be?... Could he really be alive... again?

"Could we bring both Grandmas back too?" Blaxton asked, half-turning in Elizabeth's arms and trying to tuck the lock under the lace.

Elizabeth exchanged a long look with her father who could not hide a glimpse of hope behind the sadness that was suddenly written all over his features.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said slowly. "We have to wait for Dad to be back-" she trailed off, squinting as Blaxton accidentally untied the lace while trying to tuck a strand of her hair under it, causing her hair to cascade over her shoulders.

He froze with his outstretched hand and then laughed when Elizabeth pursed her lips in fake annoyance.

Weatherby glanced at James who looked as if he was not there at all, a part of him still lost to death even if he was no longer under its command.

Elizabeth brought her hands to her hair, tying it with the lace again, but doing it with purposeful clumsiness that made Blaxton laugh.

Or perhaps it was life that troubled him more, the Governor thought imagining time flowing backwards, making it possible to unmake one's mistakes, to remake one's decisions.

"I thought you only trusted him."

Elizabeth darted her eyes to James, a trace of humor in his voice not as evident as a glimpse of sad sarcasm in his tired eyes. She was not quite sure what to say, as it seemed wrong to attack a person freshly brought back to life, even if she really felt like mentioning disappearance of a certain heart all those years ago.

Governor Swann's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Are you questioning the sincerity of my words or of my feelings?" Elizabeth asked a bit haughtily.

Blaxton reached out to untie Elizabeth's hair again and began combing it with his outstretched fingers.

"I'm sorry," James said quietly, not really knowing why he had said that at all. "Most of all, I'm questioning my own existence," he added in a whisper, looking away.

* * *

There was a queue of people in front of the hut and it seemed impossible to sneak inside unnoticed as they were all looking him up and down suspiciously at least until he meekly took his place at the end of the waiting line.

But of course he had not time for waiting.

"What is it?" Jack said all of a sudden in a loud voice causing several people to look at him. "Can you see this?" he asked in a whisper leaning toward an elderly man in front of him, who widened his eyes at him, surreptitiously taking a step away from him. The man exchanged a look with an elderly lady and they both watched Jack move out of the queue, swaggering toward the door while spinning around and pointing to something above.

Soon, almost all the people in line stood with their eyes fixed on the sky, the exact moment when Jack disappeared inside the hut escaping their notice.

It was fairly dark inside and Jack started a bit at the sight of a person laying in the middle of the room in a hammock, fully covered with seaweed.

A woman standing next to the hammock looked at Jack questioningly. "You need to wait for your turn," she said calmly.

"I-" Jack began, but broke off suddenly noticing that the seaweed... moved. He swallowed. "I'm not here for treatment," he said with relief clear in his voice, shifting his eyes from the green worms to the woman. "A few days ago I bought here some herbs and-"

"It's not my fault if they didn't work," the woman snapped. "If you want to get back what you paid-"

Jack shook his head. "No, you see, the trouble is that they did work," he said narrowing his eyes in an artificial smile. "They actually worked disturbingly well."

* * *

The galley grew quiet when the door was pushed open, Ragetti's face appearing in the entrance right above Pintel's shoulder.

"Yes?" Elizabeth prompted, sensing the usual dilemma of who was going to speak first.

"There is another one of them," Pintel said in a conspirational whisper, glancing at the people in the cabin.

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "Another one...?" she broke off, feeling cold shivers run up her spine.

"Another ghost?" Blaxton exclaimed happily, sliding off Elizabeth's lap and almost tripping over his own feet as he dashed out of the galley before Elizabeth managed to stop him.

"Who is it?" she asked, quickly rising to her feet.

But Pintel and Ragetti only shrugged their shoulders in response.

* * *

Jack blinked when the woman began to laugh. "I'm not sure this is amusing," he said with a small pout.

The woman shook her head, still laughing. "It's not possible."

"Not probable," Jack corrected, squinting. "But apparently possible."

"Even if you mixed all the herbs according to the recipe from the Book of the Dead, you couldn't _possibly_ make the dead return," she said decidedly.

Jack sighed. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't do it, because if I couldn't do it I wouldn't come here to say that I just did it, aye?" he said quickly in a slightly irritated tone of voice.

The woman stopped laughing and looked at him with mixture of interest and confusion. She seemed to finally believe him and he patiently waited for her to say something.

"No one can bring back the dead," she said at last and Jack rolled his eyes. "Unless..."

He darted his eyes to her. "Unless?"

"Unless the dead would be invited to come back by an immortal person."

Jack was about to dismiss the possibility with a snort but then the words froze on his lips. "An immortal person, you say," he muttered, his eyes widening.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 6**

"Dad! Guess what happened!" Blaxton exclaimed excitedly as soon as Jack crossed the gangplank.

"Is it something good or something bad?" Jack asked, hoisting Blaxton up in the air, noticing James Norrington leaning against the rail near the steps leading below. "And if it's both I prefer hearing only the good part," he added with a twitch of his nose.

"It's _very_ good!" Blaxton assured him with a grin. "Grandma came back!"

Jack stopped abruptly in his tracks.

"Mum's Mum. She didn't wake up yet, but she is downstairs-"

"Below deck," corrected Jack a bit appalled.

"Below deck," Blaxton continued, drawing a quick breath, "with Mum and Grandpa. Mum asked me to wait for you here so I can tell her when you come back."

"Alright." Jack adjusted the hat on Blaxton's head before putting him back down on his own feet. "You may go tell Mum I'll be in our cabin."

Blaxton nodded and ran down the stairs.

"Who would've thought."

Jack stiffly turned toward James who pushed himself away from the rail, his uniform looking strikingly new in the sunlight, unlike his face bearing clear signs of exhaustion.

"You have a son." James clasped his hands behind his back but then dropped them back to his sides with a frown, and when Jack opened his mouth to speak he added in a hollow voice, "With Elizabeth."

"I'm glad you've got that part so quickly," said Jack with forced cheerfulness.

James shifted his eyes to him, his face so grim that the expression on Jack's face turned serious.

"If of all the possibilities you choose siding with the likes of Beckett you have really nobody to blame but yourself."

"Personal experience, no doubt?" James looked at him with weary eyes. Jack squinted. "You didn't need to hire me. Unless you really thought I'd enjoy polishing your deck," James said with a humorless half-smile. "Or perhaps it was just an act of compassion?"

"Can't remember. It was a long time ago, Admiral," he said, glancing at the uniform. "Time to move on."

James snorted half-halfheartedly. "Move on. What for? I'm already dead," he said blankly.

"Were. Or... have been," Jack said with a twitch of his nose. "You were dead. Now you're not," he said, answering James' questioning look. "At least not until you'll get yourself killed again." And with that, Jack turned on his heels and headed below leaving James with an unreadable expression on his face.

* * *

"I almost didn't remember her but now when I look at her I feel like I always knew every inch of her face," Elizabeth said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding her mother's hand in hers.

"You're so very alike," Weatherby said softly, looking at his wife with disbelief, trying not to blink, afraid that if he blinked she would disappear.

Elizabeth smiled so brightly that the tears that had welled up in her eyes now rolled down her cheeks.

The door opened and Blaxton ran inside but then remembered that he was not supposed to do that and very quietly tiptoed to Elizabeth.

"Mum!" he started but trailed off, wrinkling his forehead. "Mum, why are you crying?" he asked, wiping the tears off her face with his fingers.

Elizabeth laughed under her breath, taking his hands in hers and placing small kisses on them. "These are happy tears, sweetheart. Don't worry," she said reassuringly and hugged him. "Did Dad come back?"

Blaxton nodded, still eyeing Elizabeth's tears suspiciously.

She smiled and quickly went out of the cabin.

Governor Swann looked at Blaxton and although he had always considered extracting information from children unfair, he asked conversationally: "Your Mother doesn't cry too often, does she?"

Blaxton shook his head. The Governor looked away with a pensive smile.

* * *

"What is it?" Elizabeth repeated her question in a whisper after being asked by Jack to lower her voice.

Jack scanned the corridor before closing the door behind them.

"Jack!"

"Shh!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"They really came back," Jack whispered, bringing his face very close to hers.

Elizabeth's face brightened at an instant. "That's wonderful!" She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him quickly on the mouth.

"So far," Jack observed cautiously.

"What does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"Well, there is a chest-"

Elizabeth laughed.

"It's not my fault these things keep repeating themselves," Jack said with a pout.

"Alright," Elizabeth bit her lip, trying to stop smiling. "Go on."

"The chest contains the souls of all the dead."

"It must be really big," Elizabeth cut in as matter-of-factly as possible.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her. "Souls are invisible."

"If they were invisible they wouldn't need to be kept in a chest," Elizabeth argued, stifling a chuckle.

"Lizzie, I appreciate your sense of humor but this is far from amusing, I assure you. Especially if the news will spread."

"What news?"

Jack sighed and then pulled them both away from the door, moving to the furthest corner of the cabin.

"The souls of the dead are locked in a chest and they can get out of it only if a particular soul is invited to the world of the living by somebody who is immortal," Jack said quickly in a hushed voice, looking her straight in the eye. "The chest is hidden where the horizon ends, under the setting sun. But that's not that important. What's important-"

"Wait," Elizabeth interrupted him, her eyebrows knitted in thought. "You said... somebody immortal?..."

Jack just looked at her and she looked back at him, not really knowing what to think until something snapped in her mind and she mouthed their son's name with wide eyes.

Jack nodded. "We have to ask him of whom else he was thinking while we were mixing those herbs. The trouble is, he wouldn't have to specifically think of bringing anybody back. It was enough if somebody's name crossed his mind at that very moment."

"You mean... all the people of whom he was thinking at that moment will come back?" Elizabeth asked disbelievingly in a barely audible whisper.

"It seems so."

She gasped, shaking her head in amazement. "So he can bring back anyone?"

"Lizzie. We can't start bringing back everyone you like, if that's what you're thinking of," Jack said, squinting.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "I didn't mean everyone..."

"Do you know what will happen if anyone finds out about this? It won't be good at all."

"I know," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "Is there... something more?" she asked uncertainly after a pause noticing a thoughtful look on Jack's face as if he was hesitating if he should tell her everything.

"There is," he admitted with a frown.

* * *

When Governor Swann was left alone with his wife the cabin fell so quiet that he could hear Christelle's breathing.

He leaned forward, afraid to breathe himself in order not to stop hearing the sound. The moment seemed so fragile, and he tried to stop doubting the wonderful reality. It could not be a dream, it just could not. He held onto the burning conviction in his heart with frantic determination. He sat motionlessly, except for his heart hammering in his chest.

Christelle's face was peaceful and he tried to fight the memory of holding her hand like that all those years ago. It was the last memory he had of her, the pale glow of her cheeks, his hopelessness that could not have made her open her eyes ever again...

He drew reassurance from the fact that her face was not so pale now. She looked like she was sleeping, and he regretted not watching her in her sleep before.

He started at the sight of her eyelids beginning to move, forgetting to breathe while watching her blink her eyes open.

* * *

"I thought of Grandpa Weatherby and both Grandmas," Blaxton said after a moment of consideration.

"Both Grandmas?" Jack echoed, shivers running up his spine at the words.

"Aye." Blaxton nodded.

Elizabeth smiled.

"But why did you think of Admiral... Commodore..." Jack waved his hand. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Norrington?" Jack asked, somewhat confused.

Blaxton shrugged. "Uncle Gibbs said he dragged the fish people away from the boats on Isla Cruces."

Elizabeth and Jack exchanged a long look.

"I think we'll ask Uncle Gibbs to consult with us his choice of stories in the future," Jack muttered with a twitch of his nose.

"So nobody else, no other name crossed your mind? Is that right? Just both Grandmas, Grandpa, and James?" Elizabeth took Blaxton's hands in hers. Blaxton nodded, and she rose to her feet with a smile, telling him that he could go back to waiting with Grandpa for Grandma to wake up. "I told you there was nothing to worry about," Elizabeth said to Jack.

Blaxton ran to the door but then stopped abruptly in his tracks.

Both Jack and Elizabeth shifted their eyes to him.

"I just remembered I thought of one more person," Blaxton said, turning around.

Elizabeth drew a quick breath and then asked as calmly as possible, while Jack was trying to predict who that person could be, different possibilities running through his head: "What person, sweetheart?"

Blaxton took a few steps toward them and said: "Davy Jones."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 7**

It was so strange for Weatherby to look into his wife's eyes again, all the memories rushing back to him, the past flooding his heart, bringing him back into the world he had thought was lost to him forever.

He did not know what to say, where to start, how to explain... There were too many words and he could not choose any without a nagging feeling that they were unable to express his thoughts, perhaps even unable to express the truth.

He met her gaze with a faint smile, afraid to move. She was looking at him with wide eyes sparkling with fear, confusion, curiosity... Or perhaps he was trying to name what was simply the lack of recognition.

It suddenly dawned at him that she was unchanged. For her, time had stopped years ago, and now she must be wondering who was that old man with his eyes full of tears and his hands clasped around hers-

His name spoken in a soft whisper, like a question, shook him out of his reverie and he smiled in both relief and astonishment that somewhere in his eyes, in his face, despite the hurricane of days that had stormed across his life she read the truth - and recognized his heart.

* * *

"Do you think your Mother will like me?" Elizabeth asked, looking ahead, her head propped on her elbows.

Jack, who was sitting next to her on the bed slowly turned his head to look at her. "If we were Teague we would have to worry about my Mother but since we're us I think we should worry about... us," he said, squinting.

Elizabeth snickered. "I'm just trying to cheer you up."

"Good luck with that," Jack said grimly.

"Wasn't it you who just yesterday scolded me for worrying about things before they actually happen?" Elizabeth asked matter-factly, lacing her hand through his arm and leaning his cheek against his shoulder.

"Technically, it already happened, and Jones is now floating somewhere near," Jack countered with a twitch of his nose.

"Well, we don't have to be gracious and fish him out. He can just... keep floating until somebody rescues him or until he drowns." Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand.

Jack smirked. "That's a good plan. Except that if he doesn't drown he might start pondering his life... and death, and arrive at a series of false conclusions," he said with a frown.

"Or maybe he'll just start a new life? Appreciate the chance?"

Jack snorted. "A chance for a revenge. Aye."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "We should keep a weather eye- We should watch the sea very closely, and as soon as we'll find your Mother we should sail as far away and as fast as possible." Jack nodded absently. "Do you really think he would want to take revenge?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Returning from the dead is all fine as long as you have something to return to, and in his case, even his dreary ship is gone."

"Mum! Dad! Grandma woke up!" Blaxton announced, running into the cabin.

Elizabeth smiled at him brightly, and sprung to her feet, taking hid hand in hers and letting him lead her out of the cabin.

* * *

James stood on the bow of the ship, looking out at the sea, tired of walking back and forth across the deck. He had tried to sleep but all he could see when he closed his eyes were images of death and despair, dark landscapes of all the missed chances, wrong choices he had made.

The sunlight did not make him feel much better but at least on deck, in the broad daylight he felt alive while below the decks he had difficulties convincing himself he was not a ghost haunting his own soul.

* * *

At first it was dark, darker than before, the swirling mist engulfing him, pulling him in, somewhere he could not see. He tried to see but the darkness was all around him and he could not hold onto anything.

The light was a sudden splash of familiar pain, raw and fresh in the sun, in the rays that cut through his stained memory, making him suddenly blink his eyes open.

The sea – what a nightmare, it could not have been worse. He tried to collect the shreds lingering in his imagination but all the thoughts were cold and distant and every time he tried to capture a passing emotion it was already gone, bitter and sneering, a frightful image, sound, scent of defeat echoing in his ears, deafening him over and over again.

* * *

"I remember this dress."

Christelle turned around from the window, twirling a ribbon around her finger.

"I'm sorry. I'm so confused," she said with a broken smile, biting her lip.

Governor Swann slowly made his way across the room. "I know. You have left a young, awkward husband and a young daughter and you return to an old man and a married daughter-"

"You're not old," she interrupted him with a soft chuckle, taking a quick step toward him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He blinked and stared at her with wide eyes. "It's not that. It's not you. It's me. I just can't arrange my thoughts in any proper, useful way. All the memories, everything, is... dancing across my head," she smiled. "I'm sorry."

"No, no." Weatherby whispered, shaking his head. "I am sorry. For letting you... For not-"

"But you said I'm back," she cut in, tilting her head to the side.

He looked at her, hardly believing that she was looking back at him, that she was looking at him as if nothing had changed, as if an avalanche of the days they had been apart had never happened, as if he was the same Weatherby, timid and self-confident, courageous and not brave enough, peaceful, smiling, happy...

"Yes," he agreed. "But it doesn't change, it can't change the past, and that terrible, hopeless emptiness that fell over me and Elizabeth when you-"

He trailed off when she ran her fingers across his cheeks, her eyes wandering all over his face.

"You look different and yet exactly the same," she said with a hint of wonder in her voice. "You have the same eyes." She smiled.

He smiled back, grasping her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I couldn't live without you. I did but I couldn't," he said in a voice on the verge of cracking.

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak but a few tears rolled down her cheeks and she chuckled nervously at the strangeness of it all.

Weatherby pulled her into an embrace and she rested her head on his shoulder, simultaneously sobbing and smiling at the sound of his voice repeating her name, at all the lost days and at the miracle of this one, impossible, beautiful moment.

* * *

"Now, love, this is how you do it," Jack said, raising Elizabeth's hand, curling up her fingers and pressing it to the door.

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle. "Jack, no!... Don't knock yet. I'm not ready," she said with a whisper, wrinkling her forehead.

"There is nothing to be ready for. You knock, walk in... Or do you want me to walk in first? You know, I usually make a favorable first impression," he said with a wink.

Elizabeth pressed her lips to his to keep from laughing. Jack wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

"Go in, Lizzie. Don't wait. You've been apart for too long already," he whispered into her hair.

"I know," she said, drawing back. "Come back in a little while, alright?" she asked with a small smile. "If my Mother won't be happy with the way I turned out, you'll save the day. She always liked pirates even though she has never met one before."

Jack smirked. "I think she's about to meet one right this moment," he said and to Elizabeth's dismay knocked on the door.

* * *

"My Grandma woke up," Blaxton announced, but it took James a few moments to realize that he was the addressee of the happy statement.

"That's very good," he said slowly, turning away from the rail. "How does she feel?" he asked in a hollow voice.

"I don't know." Blaxton shook his head. "Mum went to talk to Grandma. I'll go later."

James nodded, trying to smile. He did not feel like speaking with anyone but he did not have a heart to tell a child to go away and leave him alone. He could see that the boy must, for some reason, find him interesting. Maybe it was because of his unfortunate uniform at which he himself could not look because it reminded him of the worst moments of his life. He thought about asking for different clothes but he did not know whom to ask. He did not want to ask anybody for anything.

Blaxton looked at him for a moment in silence, trying to decide how to address him. "Admiral Norrington... why are you sad?" he asked at last, hoping he had chosen the right title.

James blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Sad? Why do you think I'm sad?" he asked cautiously, the idea that his emotions might be visible on his face never occurring to him, as well as the simplicity of the state he was in. Perhaps he was sad indeed. Nothing more complicated than that.

"You look sad," Blaxton said with a twitch of his nose. "And you are not talking with anyone."

"I'm talking with you," James said with a first, faint glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

Blaxton smiled. "Could you help me look for my Grandma?" he asked, leaning over the railing.

"I thought your Grandma has just woken up?"

"My other Grandma," Blaxton said, looking out at the sea.

James' eyebrows knitted in confusion.

* * *

"I'm Elizabeth," Elizabeth whispered when the door closed behind her.

Their parents stood in the farther part of the cabin, looking at her. Weatherby smiled faintly while Christelle shivered and when Elizabeth took a slow step forward she noticed that her mother's face was almost motionless, except for the tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her face. Her hand slipped out of her husband's and she lurched forward almost at the same time Elizabeth did. Without a single word they fell into each other's arms. Elizabeth started to cry as soon as she felt Christelle's arms around her and as soon as the scent she did not think she still remembered hit her, a handful of memories, hurtful because of how vivid they were, flowing back to her, taking her back to the times when she was falling asleep with the sound of her mother's laughter ringing in her ears.

Governor Swann clasped his hands behind his back, shifting his eyes between his wife and daughter and the window, his heart clenching from the long forgotten joy, the sight restoring the sense of peace he had lost long ago. He blinked and squinted in order to keep himself from crying.

Christelle drew back, stroking Elizabeth's hair with such a bright smile that it made her tears glitter. Elizabeth laughed, looking at her greedily, the tears rolling down her cheeks at the realization that her mother's face had become blurred in her memory, and now she could learn it by heart again and lose the image never again.

* * *

James glanced right and left feeling a bit awkward if not ridiculous, standing near the rail in the company of Blaxton, Pintel and Ragetti, all of them preoccupied with watching the perfectly calm sea.

"Ghosts ain't comin' in broad daylight," Pintel said with a frown.

"Why not?" Ragetti asked, rubbing his wooden eye.

Pintel rolled his eyes. "Cause they're ghosts!"

"Mum and Dad said Grandma could be here any moment," Blaxton observed in a firm voice, his eyes fixed on the ocean.

"How do they know that?" Pintel asked, turning his eyes to him. "They can't know that. Even he ain't know that," he said, poking Ragetti who nervously shifted his eyes between everybody.

James raised his eyebrows. Blaxton wrinkled his forehead in confusion.

"It ain't my fault," Ragetti said uncertainly.

"If it ain't yer fault then whose fault is it?" Pintel asked in a slightly mocking voice, looking at him with a frown. "Ye were pretendin' to be a ghost an' it angered real ghosts that's why they keep comin'," he said angrily through his teeth.

Ragetti blinked, considering this.

James fought the urge to roll his eyes, and shifted his gaze to the sea instead. He frowned and squinted at the sight of a ship heading toward the _Black Pearl_.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 8**

Jack was slightly caught off guard by the sight of Elizabeth's face stained with tears. It triggered most disturbing memories of those few times he had seen her crying. But now her tears were quickly overshadowed by a series of smiles, and she pulled him inside the cabin, grinning.

"Mother, this is my husband," Elizabeth said, pushing Jack toward where her parents were standing.

To Governor Swann's visible distress, Jack took Christelle's hand in his and introduced himself.

Weatherby watched his wife, afraid that she might not receive all the news concerning Elizabeth's life too well. He did not want her to worry over anything. She was still pale and needed rest more than a conversation that could only bring her more fear and confusion-

"_That_ Captain Jack Sparrow?" Christelle asked with a gasp, excitement clear in her voice.

Weatherby blinked a few times. Elizabeth laughed and nodded while Jack put on his most disarming smile.

To Governor's Swann stupefaction, his wife's face brightened and she engaged in the most lively and joyous conversation with her daughter and her new son-in-law.

* * *

_Gold Teliza_, James pondered the name of the ship for a while, keeping himself at a safe distance from the small gathering on the deck.

A tall man (who made James think back to his former suspicion that he was in hell and that hell was full of Jack Sparrows...) smiled, and put his hand on Blaxton's head in the form of a greeting, the expression on his face turning thoughtful when the little boy began telling him about the latest occurrences.

* * *

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Christelle exclaimed with a smile, squeezing Elizabeth's hand in hers.

At first, Weatherby sat somewhat morosely next to his wife, holding her other hand, but after some time, he found himself actually listening to the story Jack was telling. The realization was almost as appalling as the fact that his wife apparently considered Elizabeth's husband... acceptable. To say the least.

Strangely enough, the absurd arrangement of the four of them sitting together and listening to the most ridiculous tale, somehow made the entire situation more natural. For a moment Governor Swann forgot that he was dead... or that he was not. He forgot that the fact his wife was now here with him was impossible yet true. Nothing seemed odd as long as he could hear Christelle and Elizabeth's laughter. Suddenly, everything seemed right, and he drifted away in his thoughts to the past days, astonished by how well he remembered them.

His wife's hand on his shoulder shook him out of his reverie and he smiled at her warmly.

"Are you alright, Weatherby?" Christelle asked with a small smile, tilting her head to the side.

"Me?" he smiled back. "Of course. But I'm worried it's too strenuous for you to-"

"Yes, you should rest," Elizabeth cut in, rising to her feet. "I'll stay with you," she said, helping her mother to stand up.

"I'm perfectly fine," Christelle argued. "I've never felt better."

"Still-" Weatherby started but broke off at the galley's door bursting open.

Jack's smile vanished from his face at the sight of a tall shadow looming above Blaxton whose eyes immediately focused on Grandma. He glanced at Elizabeth who nodded encouragingly, and so he ran to Christelle who didn't even let him introduce himself but immediately pulled him into a hug instead.

"You must be Blaxton," Christelle said, looking at him with a smile.

Blaxton nodded, his eyes wandering all over his Grandma's face and her long, light hair.

"I did not know that arriving here today I would find two goddesses instead of one," Teague said in a low voice, slowly walking into the cabin, his eyes shifting from Elizabeth to her mother.

Jack rolled his eyes while Governor Swann looked at Teague in astonishment, pondering the man's appearance that resembled- But his train of thought was interrupted when the man's words registered in his mind.

Christelle also did not even notice the man at first but when the words reached her, she looked up and giving Blaxton another smile, took his hand in hers and straightened up.

"Captain Teague," Teague said, bowing his head, and taking Christelle's proffered hand.

"Christelle Swann," Christelle said, a bit embarrassed by the way Teague looked straight into her eyes, his own glimmering with interest.

"Weatherby Swann," the Governor introduced himself in a rather loud voice, forcing Teague to turn his attention to him.

Teague shook his hand with utmost politeness, glancing at him very briefly before unceremoniously shifting his eyes back to Christelle.

Blaxton ducked under Teague's arm to free himself, because the three adults were standing so close to one another that it had become for him hard to breathe.

"What is he doing here?" Jack mumbled more to himself than to anybody else while Elizabeth watched in bewilderment (which her father obviously shared) Teague lacing Christelle's hand through his arm and leading her out of the cabin.

Taking the stunned look on Governor Swann's face for sadness caused by being left behind, Blaxton quickly ran to him, offering to show him Grandpa Teague's ship and take him on a walk around the _Black Pearl_.

Weatherby shifted his eyes between him and the pair that had just left the galley.

"I highly recommend you'll go with your Mum, love," Jack whispered to Elizabeth, who for the first time seemed to agree with him as much as to actually follow his advice without arguing.

When Elizabeth had left, Governor Swann's eyes shifted to Jack.

"I don't like him either," Jack said quickly, narrowing his eyes in a sympathetic grimace.

* * *

"I thought we were friends!" Pintel said peevishly, looking angrily at Ragetti.

"I ain't lyin'. I really don't know how to do this," Ragetti repeated, almost pleadingly.

"Ye bring back all these people but ye can't bring back yer friend's mum?" Pintel huffed.

Ragetti blinked a few times. "I didn't bring anybody back," he said quietly.

"Fine!" Pintel nearly screamed. He glared at Ragetti one more time and walked off.

* * *

The sense of overwhelming confusion was slowly fading and breathing in the fresh air, James began to feel more like himself again. The impossible and the unthinkable – he had been confronted with both. Even defeated by both, perhaps? He should know better than to question the events, as amazing as they could be. He had lost so much time trying to understand... instead of simply living, living each day, every moment from dawn to dusk.

"Help me..."

James started at the hoarse voice coming from somewhere below. He stiffened, and very slowly began removing his hands from the rail. But before he managed to do that, he felt his hand being covered by somebody else's hand. The touch was cold and wet and it took him a moment to decide if he really wanted to look down and see-

A small sigh of relief escaped his lips when he noticed a woman's face, her black hair soaked with sea water, her eyes wide. He scolded himself for actually running his eyes down her body to see if she was not a siren, while quickly leaning over the rail to assist her in climbing onto the deck.

He wondered how she had even managed to climb that high up all by herself. Her breathing was ragged and she clearly looked exhausted, her pale face glittering in the sunlight.

"May I..." James started but the woman pushed him away as soon as she could feel the wood under her feet.

She touched the back of her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, for a moment standing very still. James watched the water drip down from the woman's skin. She was clad in a thin, colorful fabric that clung to her skin, sparkling in the sun.

She made an unsteady step forward and James quickly reached out to prevent her from tripping but she looked at him with such hostility that he let go of her.

She took a shaky breath and made her way across the deck, holding onto the rail.

* * *

"Not here," Jack said, glancing around the captain's quarters. "They must have gone on deck."

"I'll go check," Blaxton offered, dashing out of the cabin.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jack and Weatherby made to follow him but stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of a pistol being fired somewhere above. Jack froze for just a second and then ran across the corridor, Governor Swann trying to catch up with him and climbing up the stairs as fast as possible.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews! :]

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 9**

To Jack's relief and as far as he could tell after just one look at the scene, nobody seemed dead.

Governor Swann reached the deck, trying to catch his breath, and anxiously glancing around, closing his eyes for a moment at the soothing sight of his wife and his daughter.

Christelle and Elizabeth were standing near Teague who, while he did not look as startled as them, had a peculiar expression on his face, something that to Weatherby looked like a mixture of joy, amazement, and... fear.

Not far away from the three of them stood a woman with wild, black hair who was wearing a soaking wet dress and holding a pistol in her hand. The pistol was aimed at Teague, although it shifted from time to time to the women next to him.

Jack's eyebrows knitted, but the moment of confusion was brief and the realization hit him almost immediately, taking his breath away.

Slowly making his way toward the woman, he reached out, hoping to convince her to give him her pistol before she would do something uncalled for.

Unfortunately, the woman cocked the pistol and was apparently ready to fire again.

Noticing the pistol waver into Elizabeth's direction, Blaxton broke into a run, intending to shield her from possible danger, but before he managed to reach her, the black-haired woman caught his hand, and dragged him away.

"You won't see us ever again!" she screamed at Teague, shaking the pistol, tears welling up in her eyes.

Blaxton tried to snatch himself free but the woman's grasp was too strong.

"Let's go, Jack," she said in a softer tone, and Blaxton blinked, noticing that the words were addressed to him. "No reason to stay where we are not welcomed."

Jack exchanged a look with Elizabeth, slightly shaking his head when she made a move as if she wanted to step forward.

"Stay away from us!" the woman shouted, glaring at Teague through her eyes veiled with tears, single drops rolling down her cheeks, causing Blaxton to actually stop struggle in her grip. "Stay with your wenches," she said, lifting the pistol again.

Jack's eyes widen slightly. "Mum," he said quickly causing her to flinch.

Even though he was standing not more than a few steps to her right, she did not seem to notice him until he had spoken, and even when he had said the words she still seemed to have trouble with locating the source of the voice. She looked down at Blaxton who looked back at her.

"Mum."

This time she realized the voice was coming from somewhere else, and subconsciously lowering the pistol she turned toward Jack, regarding him with wide, astonished eyes.

"It's alright. Give me this." Very carefully, Jack stepped closer, slowly reaching for the pistol that his mother was holding in her hand.

She shivered, a frown of utter confusion appearing on her face as she shifted her eyes between everyone, trying to understand what was happening. "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously, watching him take the pistol out of her hand but for some reason not even trying to protest.

Having the pistol safe in his hand, Jack breathed out a small sigh of relief. Elizabeth whispered something to her mother, giving her a small, reassuring smile before walking toward Blaxton whose hand was still clasped in Jack's mother's hand.

However, as soon as she noticed Elizabeth approach, she stepped away, pulling Blaxton with her.

"I know what you're trying to do," she whispered, her eyes wandering frustratedly around the deck. "Don't you dare. He's my son, you won't steal him from me. You can take him," she spat, shooting Teague another glare. "But don't you dare stealing my child," she looked at Elizabeth menacingly, and to Elizabeth's dismay a silver blade glinted in the woman's hand.

"Mum, he's not me," Jack stepped forward, shielding Elizabeth with his arm and pushing her backwards a few steps. "I mean he is," Jack's mouth twitched into a smile for a split second, "in a way but... I'm Jack. I'm your son." He glanced at the knife and then looked straight into his mother's eyes, hoping to find a hint of understanding there.

Governor Swann was already standing next to his wife, making sure she was alright. They watched the scene with a growing sense of dread. Teague stood alone with his eyes fixed on Celeste, unable to move, unable to think. He felt as if he was absent from the scene, all the words and images passing through his minds and disappearing, vanishing somewhere beyond the edge of his memory.

"Mum?" Jack prompted cautiously, placing his hand over hers.

She looked at him, but then out of the corner of her eye she noticed Elizabeth extend her hand toward Blaxton. "Stay away!" she warned, snatching her hand free and taking another step toward the rail.

"Mum. Look at me," Jack said again in a low voice trying to turn Celeste's attention to him. "I'm Jack. I'm your son and this is Elizabeth. My wife. Blaxton is our son," Jack kept explaining as calmly as possible, pointing to everyone as he spoke. "Blaxton is your grandson. I'm your son. You were... away, for a long time," he added and drew a breath, not really knowing how to make clear something that still was not entirely clear to anyone, including himself.

"I'm Blaxton," Blaxton confirmed, wishing to help but not really knowing how. "This is my Mum and this is my Dad," he said, mimicking Jack's gestures, and pointing first to Elizabeth and then to Jack.

Celeste stared at him for a moment in silence, and then shifted her eyes between Jack and Elizabeth before letting her gaze rest on Jack's face for a longer while.

"You're Jack? You're my Jack?" she asked at last with a frown, looking at him in disbelief.

"He's even older than he looks," Elizabeth observed gently, struggling to keep a straight face when she imagined a hurt look that must have appeared on Jack's face. "But he is Jack."

"I'm not old," Jack argued in a low voice.

Celeste looked at him searchingly. "You always wanted to be," she said, her lips barely moving.

"I did?" Jack asked with a twitch of his nose.

"See, sweetheart? Always be careful what you wish for," Elizabeth said, looking at Blaxton with a smile. "Dad wanted to be old and we all see where this wish got him."

Jack blinked a few times, unable to speak from indignation.

"You're Jack," Celeste whispered, slowly letting go of Blaxton's hand and watching him walk off straight into Elizabeth's arms.

"Aye," Jack said with a sigh, exchanging a mock-annoyed look with Elizabeth before she turned to walk away taking Blaxton with her and leaving Jack alone with his mother.

"You're Jack," Celeste repeated, as if she needed to repeat the phrase many times to really make herself believe. "What did you do to your hair?" she asked before Jack had the time to smile at the recognition flickering in her eyes.

"I braided them," he said, a bit sheepishly, beginning to feel the weight of memories on his shoulders. A long-forgotten chain of days, some of them bright and colorful, some of them black like his ship's sails.

Celeste slowly shook her head. "I told you not to do that," she whispered, looking him up and down, and then almost hesitating to look at his face again.

She seemed so listless, all of a sudden that Jack was afraid that she might lose consciousness. Her face was pale, her dark eyes blinking wearily in the sunlight.

"Mum." He took one more step toward her, and cautiously placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly pulling her into an embrace.

She did not protest but did not really move either. He wrapped his arms around her, shivering at how cold she was, sea water dripping down onto the deck in the perfect silence that suddenly fell.

"Mum," he said quietly, drawing back. "Let's get you somewhere warm. We'll go below, alright?"

She looked at him, her mouth quivering as if she was about to cry.

"It's safe here. We're on my ship," he smiled encouragingly and reached to take the knife out of her hand but she resisted.

"I'll keep this," she said in a quiet, firm voice and he saw in her eyes that there was no point in arguing with her at that point.

Jack nodded. "Alright," he said with a small smile, and very slowly they started crossing the deck.

* * *

Having convinced her parents to stay with Blaxton in one of the cabins until everything would calm down, Elizabeth decided to find out what happened to Teague who had followed them below the deck but then had wordlessly wandered into a different direction.

From what she had seen, the sudden sight of Jack's mother had made a strong impression on him, and although it was always hard to read anything from his face, it seemed that the emotions the woman evoked in him were complicated to say the least.

Elizabeth quickly walked across the corridor and was about to turn around the corner when someone suddenly appeared in front of her, making her gasp.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to scare you," James said in a low voice, looking at her tiredly.

Elizabeth shook her head. "How are you, James?" she asked, feeling guilty for actually forgetting about him during the last several hours. All her thoughts were revolving around her parents, Blaxton, Jack and his parents, Davy Jones... and somehow James had slipped out of her mind. "You look like a ghost," she added good-humoredly and he tried to appear amused by her statement. "We should find you some clothes," she said, wrinkling her forehead at the thought that in that oddly new uniform, with his face so pale and his eyes so green he truly did look like a ghost.

"I was thinking about that," he admitted in a low voice, "but I didn't know whom to ask... I didn't want to bother anyone."

"Bother?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow.

"I know I'm not most welcomed guest here," James said with a faint, humorless smile.

Elizabeth sighed. "Did anyone tell you that? The situation is complicated and we're all quite overwhelmed by what is happening but it doesn't mean-"

"I'm not complaining," he cut in, his voice hollow.

"And I'm not explaining myself," she retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "I just think that we all have had a fair share of difficult experiences and if we are given a chance to start anew we should. Nobody holds any grudges against you," she added after a pause.

He slightly tilted his head backwards snorting under his breath. "Not even for delivering the heart of Davy Jones to Beckett?"

To his surprise she smiled. "Who knows what would've happened and where we would've been right now if you hadn't done that. In the end, everything makes sense," she said softly. "That's what I've learned."

He looked at her pensively for a moment. "My destiny died with me," he said at last, almost to himself. "Maybe I'm alive again but my life is dead."

"Don't say that."

He shook his head, as if he wanted to dismiss the subject.

* * *

Jack draped a blanket over his mother's shoulders and helped her to sit down on the bed in one of the cabins. She was glancing at him from time to time as if checking her own perception, making sure that he was really here and she was not imagining him.

"I was in the water," she said thoughtfully, interrupting his speech concerning the dry clothes he was going to bring her.

"Aye," Jack wrinkled his forehead, squatting in front of her. "It's been a while," he sighed, cautiously placing his hands over hers, as much as the knife she was still holding would allow.

"Why was I in the water?" she whispered, almost to herself. "Why... What's happened? Why are you-"

"So old?" Jack cut in with a small, impish smile that suddenly made Celeste's face brighten up.

"It really is you," she said, putting the knife away and cupping his face in her hands, looking at him in wonder. "My Jackie."

Jack winced and she laughed.

* * *

"I should apologize for many of my choices. The fact that your father... came back," James shook his head, still finding it difficult to pronounce the words with conviction, "doesn't make me less guilty of what I have done or have neglected. I believed that past could be restored, that I could turn back time and start anew. The heart of Davy Jones couldn't be more dangerous in the hands of a man appointed by the King than in the hands of a pirate," he said with a bitter smile. "I thought I was on the right side. It wasn't a selfless act, of course, but it wasn't entirely selfish either."

"I know better than to think you wanted to put me or my father in harm's way." Elizabeth said with a sigh. "I know you're a good man, James. I don't want to go back to these memories. I have my own deeds to forget," she said with a faint smile. "You should also forget and start anew. Now you really have a chance to do so."

"I feel like everything that happened is still lingering everywhere around me, like a mist," James said grimly.

"It will fade away. It will go away all by itself, you will see."

* * *

Jack quietly closed the cabin door behind him, and headed for the captain's quarters hoping to find Elizabeth there and ask her to choose some clothes for his mother. Now that everyone was aboard they could start plotting a new course. He also needed to tell Elizabeth the rest of the story...

They had been interrupted when he was recounting the legend to her and she still did not know the most unsettling part of it. She did not know that if somebody who was brought back from the dead found the mythical dagger of water and fire he could use it to kill the immortal person who had brought him back, and by doing so – gain immortality for himself.

Turning around the corner Jack subconsciously took an immediate step back at the sight of Elizabeth and James in the corridor. He rolled his eyes at his own behavior and was about to join them when he caught James' words:

"May I at least apologize for that kiss? I had no right-"

Jack blinked.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 10**

A rum bottle appeared in front of Teague, shaking him out of his reverie. He slowly drew back from the rail, a weak smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "He doesn't have this after me, you know," he said in a low voice, taking the bottle and turning around.

"You don't like the rum?" Elizabeth asked, half-surprised, half-amused.

Teague shook his head. "Makes you vulnerable," he said pensively, looking away.

Elizabeth risked a cautious smile. "Like love?"

He did not answer. "She tried to shoot me many times," he started after a pause, as if recalling an old, pleasant story. "She was always serious. She just didn't have a very good aim."

"Because she didn't kill you? This can't count as evidence," Elizabeth countered, beginning to smile but her smile faded at the sight of a solemn expression on Teague's face.

"I killed her," he said in a hollow voice. "What I was doing and what I wasn't doing. Who I was and whom I could never be. It all killed her."

"You should talk to her," Elizabeth insisted, hoping to take advantage of the unexpected series of miracles and turn everyone's troubled, complicated pasts into happy futures.

There was so much sunlight in the world, now more than ever because it seemed that all the pain she had buried inside her heart was now gone. Her parents were no longer her thorn memories; they were a part of her _life_ and it made her heart flutter every time she thought about it, and even though Jack would never say so himself, she believed he would feel the same way if he could see his parents find their happiness.

"She won't talk to me, dove," Teague said with with a faint smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I think I'll just talk to her first and find out," Elizabeth said with a small smile, quickly walking off before Teague could manage to stop her.

* * *

"And then they made Dad their chief!" Blaxton said enthusiastically, immensely enjoying his Grandma's sincere interest in all the stories he was telling.

Christelle laughed, looking at Governor Swann who returned her smile with a hint of resignation in his eyes. He was certain that before the week was over he would know all the tales about Jack Sparrow by heart.

"It is one of the most fascinating stories I've ever heard," Christelle said, to Blaxton's visible delight. "But perhaps," she continued before her grandson had the time to start another story, "we could take a little break from storytelling," she glanced at her husband, laughing inwardly at the smile of relief that appeared on his face. "You could show me where the galley is and we could prepare a surprise supper for everyone."

"I'll show you and Grandpa around the ship!" Blaxton offered, suddenly remembering that he still did not get a chance to show Grandpa Weatherby the _Black Pearl_ as he had planned.

"That's a wonderful idea," Christelle said with a smile.

"It is indeed," Governor Swann agreed, helping his wife to her feet, his breath catching every time he could feel her hand in his, the sensation still so new... so well-remembered...

She must have noticed the expression on his face because she lightly squeezed his hand and smiled at him again.

"We'll start at the helm," Blaxton informed them, quickly outlining the plan of their walk around the ship in his head. "But first I have to go to my cabin to get my hat," he added, and promising to be back soon ran out of the cabin.

* * *

Elizabeth walked into the captain's quarters hoping to find Jack there so she could ask him where his mother was. Checking every cabin made little sense, not to mention she wanted to make sure that Jack had nothing against her talking to his mother – and mentioning Teague in this conversation.

"Jack," she smiled at the sight of him. He was sitting at his table, leaning over the map in front of him. "How is your mother?" she asked, a bit perplexed by the fact that he had not even looked up when she had called his name.

He seemed to hesitate before answering the question in a strangely blank tone. "She's asleep."

"Is everything alright?" Elizabeth asked with a frown, coming up to him.

He ran his finger across the map, his face unreadable.

"Jack?" Elizabeth stopped next to the desk, looking at him questioningly.

She noticed that he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but did not say anything.

"Are you going to answer me?" She blinked, confused. "Is it because I said you're old?" she asked stifling a chuckle, suddenly struck by the idea.

She waited for the confirmation of her suspicion but he did not smile, his eyes fixed on the map. She had rarely seen such a serious look on his face and she searched her mind for a possible explanation.

"Are you upset because I gave James your clothes?" she tried again, and this time a shadow of emotion flitted across his face, his hands stilling their movements over the map. She looked at him expectantly and when she thought he would remain silent, he finally spoke:

"Is there something _you _would like to tell me?" he asked in a hoarse voice that reminded her of storms at the helm when he was shouting orders in the torrents of rain.

She widened her eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

He held her gaze for a moment but then turned his attention back to the map, his nose twitching in annoyance.

Elizabeth stared at him in stupefaction. She thought that maybe he would say something more but he, apparently, decided to ignore her, behaving as if she was not even there.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Elizabeth thrust up her chin, sit on the edge of the table and then unceremoniously slid across its surface, sending all the maps and quills to the ground. Jack blinked.

"Would you be as kind as to explain to me what's gotten into you?" she asked, dropping her boots to the ground, placing her feet on his legs and propping her head on her elbows, looking him straight in the eye.

Jack squinted, a glimpse of frustration flickering in his eyes at the inner urge to just cradle her face in his hands and kiss her.

"I'm not the one kissing other people as soon as I get a chance to be alone with them for a few moments," he said through his teeth, trying to keep his voice calm. He looked at Elizabeth challengingly but she looked so sincerely puzzled that he decided to add: "Unless you think it doesn't count because he kindly apologized afterwards?"

Elizabeth blinked, the words rendering her speechless. She looked at Jack in complete astonishment until something snapped in her mind and she burst out laughing.

Jack watched her in silence, sitting very still even when she finally slid off the desk straight onto his lap, and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I suggest that when you'll be eavesdropping next time, you do it more thoroughly," she said with an amused smile pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes fluttered shut for a split second but then he looked at her again, anger fading into bafflement.

"Maybe if you were eavesdropping more thoroughly this time, you'd know that he was apologizing for kissing me right before he died," she paused, and then leaned forward, pronouncing each word very distinctly, "_Seven years ago._"

"Seven years ago?" Jack echoed in a slightly faltering voice.

"Aye," Elizabeth said through her teeth, her eyes laughing.

Jack glanced right and left. "But he did kiss you," he said with a pout.

"Jack," Elizabeth said warningly, chuckling. "Do you want us to make lists of all the people we kissed?" she asked, grabbing two pieces of paper and handing one of them to Jack.

Jack tore a very small piece of paper from his sheet and gave it to Elizabeth, taking the large piece of paper she had in her hand away from her.

"You can make yours," Jack said, an impish smile flickering across his lips. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "I can't make mine because we don't have enough ink aboard," he added, narrowing his eyes at her and pulling her into a kiss before she had the time to express her irritation.

She broke the kiss and looked at him with a frown. "How can you be jealous of him? Had I wanted to, I could've married him long before you dived into my life," she said, squinting.

"Firstly, the fact that you didn't want to do something in the past doesn't mean you wouldn't want to do it now," he said with a twitch of his nose. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Secondly, it's you who dived into my life, love," he added, sifting her hair through his fingers and smiling at finding a tooth weaved into her hair with a colorful thread, one of the three teeth Blaxton had lost during his stay at Gibbs' niece's house a couple of months before.

Elizabeth glanced at the tooth and smiled at the memory as well. "It's still awful of you to be so suspicious," she said sternly, pursing her lips. "It's actually insulting!"

Jack widened his eyes at her and she frowned at the total lack of seriousness on his face. "Is it?" he muttered absently, wrapping his arms around her and placing one of his hands on the back of her head, pushing her lips onto his.

"It is," Elizabeth retorted, kissing him back.

"How is it so?" he asked, running his hand down her back, his fingers tripping over the buttons.

"You're supposed to trust me," she whispered into his ear, sliding her open palm under his shirt.

He leaned his forehead against the side of her face. "It's not about trust, Lizzie," he said in a low voice, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke. "I trust you with many things. I trust you with my life... as odd as it is," he added with a twitch of his nose. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "I trust you with the _Black Pearl_. I just don't take you for granted."

She tilted her head to the side, meeting his gaze. "Maybe you should," she said quietly with a small smile.

"You wouldn't want that to happen," he argued, smirking.

She seemed to ponder this for a moment. "I think I would. I take you for granted, you know," she added, biting back a smile.

"You do?" he asked, and she could not decide how sincere his astonishment was.

She shrugged. "Of course," she said planting a few kisses along his lips. "I know from reliable sources that you think I'm the wisest and most beautiful girl in the world," she said, laughing at the dismayed expression on his face.

"I can't wait until he'll be old enough to understand that he doesn't need to- that he _shouldn't_ repeat my every word to you," Jack muttered with a pout.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Don't say that," she said with a grimace and sighed. "I'll miss it."

Jack watched her face for a moment before motioning for her for lift her feet and helping her to move off his lap and sit on the desk against. She gave him a questioning look.

"You know, Lizzie... there is an easy way of preventing that from happening... in a way," he said enigmatically, rising to his feet, and sliding off the table the objects that remained there after Elizabeth had cast his maps to the floor.

"What do you mean?" she asked, amused, beginning to suspect what the solution was.

"Well," he cleared his throat, climbing onto the desk. "We could always make sure that there was somebody aboard... somebody young enough to speak the sheer truth when Blaxton will already be past that stage..." Jack brushed Elizabeth's hair off her shoulder and trailed soft kisses along her neck, carefully helping her to lay down on the desk-

"And here are the captain's quarters!" Blaxton informed his grandparents expertly, pushing the door open.

Elizabeth's laughter turned into a horrified shriek when at the sound of the voice Jack lost his balance and tumbled off the desk hitting the floor with a mute thud and a stifled groan.

Elizabeth quickly sat upright on the desk meeting her parents and Blaxton's bewildered gazes.

"We've just... started plotting the course," she said in a slightly strained voice, pointing uncertainly to the maps scattered on the floor.

Jack pulled himself to the sitting position, shaking his head to get rid of the unpleasant feeling caused by the fall. "Aye. I just dropped..." he blindly reached out with one hand, his other hand pressed to his temple, "the divider," he said, grabbing the first object that he found. "Got it!" he lifted it, and waved it over his head.

"Great!" Elizabeth nodded, smiling brightly at her parents.

Christelle looked rather amused and perhaps a little embarrassed, but the amusement soon replaced all other emotions when she noticed the expression on Weatherby's face.

"I'm showing Grandma and Grandpa around the ship," Blaxton said, running toward the table to help Jack pick up the maps and everything else from the ground.

Elizabeth slid off the desk as gracefully as possible and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears. "Isn't it too strenuous for you to walk just yet, Mum?" she asked with a smile, approaching Christelle and taking her hands in hers.

"No, it's alright, Elizabeth," Christelle said with a smile. "I don't want to just sit in one place. It's such a beautiful ship. We're enjoying exploring it very much," she added, shifting her eyes to her husband, who returned her smile.

"Yes, and perhaps we should continue..." Governor Swann started, promising himself _not_ to walk into this particular cabin ever _ever_ again.

"Dad, where are we going?" Blaxton asked, holding the edges of the map while Jack placed paperweights on either side of it.

"We haven't decided yet," Jack said, glancing at Elizabeth who looked at him over her shoulder.

"Why don't you come up with some destination ideas?" Elizabeth proposed, looking between everyone, and walking away from her parents. "And I'll go see if your Mother is still asleep," she said, leaning toward Jack. "In which cabin is she? I wanted to introduce myself," she added, seeing a questioning look on Jack's face. He narrowed his eyes at her in a barely perceptible smile, "and discuss something," she added with a small smile, "or... someone."

"I can assure you that he is the last person my Mother would want to talk about after being brought back to life after so many years," Jack said, rubbing his head where it still hurt from his fall from the table.

Elizabeth took his hand away and placed hers there instead. "I just think they should talk," she said with a shrug. "Maybe they could start anew? You wouldn't want them to?"

"No," Jack answered immediately, causing Elizabeth to roll her eyes. "Lizzie, they have no happy past to revive," he added in a serious tone. "They weren't exactly... happy... before."

Elizabeth sighed but then allowed a small smile flicker across her face. She leaned toward him and said in a low voice. "They could always try the 'there is no before' technique."

They both chuckled at the memory. Elizabeth pressed a quick kiss to Jack's lips, hugged Blaxton, and left the cabin promising her parents to be back in a little while.

"Dad, I can't find my hat," Blaxton said worriedly, when all the objects from the floor had been picked up.

"When were you wearing it last, sailor?"

Blaxton pondered this for a moment. "Maybe I dropped it when-" he broke off, a shadow of a sheepish smile passing over his face. "I was climbing the rigging," he said in a low voice, even though Elizabeth was no longer in the cabin. Jack narrowed his eyes at him, biting back a smile. "I'll go check," Blaxton said matter-of-factly, and ran out of the captain's quarters leaving Jack alone with his parents-in-law.

* * *

"Why are we always the ones doin' all the work?" Pintel grumbled, a deep frown appearing on his face as he stared at the water blinking repeatedly. "My eyes hurt."

"Don't look at the sun," Ragetti observed expertly, leaning over the rail.

"I'm not lookin' at the sun. I'm lookin' at the sea!" Pintel huffed in irritation, rolling his eyes at Ragetti.

Ragetti flinched, and took a small step away from Pintel. "Maybe nobody else will come," he said uncertainly.

"They said there would be one more," Pintel said impatiently.

"What if he drowned?" Ragetti offered after a moment of consideration. "If he drowned, he wouldn't come."

Pintel looked at him as if he had just said something embarrassingly stupid. "A ghost can't drown."

"If ghosts couldn't drown they wouldn't have boats," Ragetti said, his eyes fixed on the sea.

Pintel shook his head and blinked in bewilderment.

"In the Locker," Ragetti clarified. "Dead people in the boats. If they couldn't drown they wouldn't be in the boats."

Pintel stared at him, his face expressionless. "But they were _dead_! Ghosts are undead," he argued.

"If ghosts were undead they wouldn't be ghosts," Ragetti countered, causing Pintel to sigh in frustration.

He was about to retort when something caught his attention. He exchanged a look with Ragetti who had just noticed the same thing.

After a moment of hesitation they proceeded to trying to get a small, floating object out of the water.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 11**

James straightened up, his shoulders and his back feeling stiff. He was not sure if he suddenly started feeling or rather merely acknowledging the pain. The fact that he was wearing Jack Sparrow's clothes was not helping either, and he almost regretted getting rid of the uniform. It was the one carrying most unpleasant memories, however, it felt conveniently familiar while the shirt and breeches he was currently wearing felt like a foreign attire, and he was half-afraid they were actually having a strange effect on him, making him feel as if he did not belong anywhere at all; again.

Walking along the corridor, he suddenly realized he forgot which cabin was assigned to him and once again he found himself at a loss of what to do, where to go... It was becoming quite aggravating, the continuous blankness of mind that made it nigh impossible for him to think about the future, as if he had no future but was doomed to contemplating the past in the never-ending, unchangeable present.

Elizabeth's words reverberated in his head but the idea of starting his new life on the _Black Pearl_ of all places seemed more than a little ironic. A new life. The phrase itself was quite enchanting even though it was still devoid of meaning. Strangely enough, his initial thought was to _come back _to the past, begin where he had left off... But could continuing an old life be considered a new life?

He had just regained the most improbable thing – his life, and he began to wonder if it was possible that he could also regain his dreams.

* * *

"I've brought something to eat," Elizabeth said with a small smile, placing a tray on the table.

She had found Jack's mother awake, staring out of the window with unseeing eyes. She had flown to her feet when Elizabeth had entered, as if afraid of who the visitor might have been.

"I don't know if I'm hungry," Celeste admitted after regarding the food in silence for a few moments.

"I know it must feel very strange-" Elizabeth said, wondering if the conversation was a good idea, after all.

"You're Elizabeth," Celeste interrupted her.

"Yes, I'm Elizabeth. I'm-"

"Jack's wife. I know. He told me. I'm Celeste," she said, taking a few surprisingly agile steps toward Elizabeth.

For a person who had been absent from the living world for more years than anybody else aboard, Jack's mother appeared to be feeling perfectly well, all the shadows of despair and confusion so clear on her face on the deck just a couple of hours ago – now gone.

Elizabeth returned her smile.

"I must apologize for..." Celeste waved her hand as if trying to come up with the right word, and Elizabeth noticed several rings on her fingers, "my behavior, for what I said... I thought-"

"That's alright. I would've behaved the same way," Elizabeth added reassuringly.

Jack's mother seemed amused for a moment before her face turned grim. "I hope my son doesn't give you reasons for such behavior," she said in a low voice.

"He doesn't," Elizabeth said softly.

Celeste's eyes shifted back to her and she smiled. "Let's sit down," she said in as cheerful voice as she could muster, and Elizabeth decided that speaking of Teague was indeed not the best idea.

She sat down, and took the cups off the tray, placing them on the table. Celeste seemed to drift away in her thoughts, looking pensively into the distance.

"He was twelve years old when I last saw him," she said, looking up at Elizabeth. "Now he is a man. He has a wife," she smiled. "I can't... find all those years in between. I know I won't find them," she added quickly as if she wanted to avoid for her words to be considered senseless, "I wasn't here. But-"

"You feel like these years should be yours to remember," Elizabeth cut in. "My Mum told me it's how she feels," she added.

"Yes, Jack told me your parents also... came back," Celeste said, and Elizabeth suppressed a smile at the distrustful way in which she had said the last phrase, just like Governor Swann always did. "I'm glad I'm not the only one," Celeste sighed. "Did I scare your little boy?" she asked, suddenly remembering the scene on the deck, one particular image floating back to her with frustrating insistence but she tried to concentrate on all the other faces she had seen.

Elizabeth laughed, and shook her head. "Blaxton is not easily scared."

"Not even of a witch?" Celeste asked but then seemed to regret her words, and quickly changed the subject before Elizabeth, a bit stunned by the question, had a chance to answer it. "I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I was thinking about Jack... about what he told me. I don't feel like I was dead... He is no longer a child but I look at him and I just see him. I don't know how to explain this but I don't feel strange at all. I feel like everything happened just yesterday."

"I guess it feels different for everyone," Elizabeth observed gently.

* * *

"Every piece of floorboard on this ship has a story," Jack said with another smile "And every mast," he added with a small twitch of his nose, glancing at the _Black Pearl_'s main mast, noticing that they were standing next to it.

Christelle inhaled the fresh air, looking around with admiration, the turquoise sea surrounding them making her feel as if she had traveled into one of the stories she had liked so much in the past.

Glancing around the deck, Governor Swann concentrated on adding new points to the list he was creating in his head. He made a mental note to find out what Elizabeth's duties and responsibilities here exactly were, and if she did not have too much work. After all, managing a ship must have been very different from managing a household.

Jack looked over his shoulder, wondering where Blaxton might have gone. He was probably still looking for his hat while Jack would rather have him help him out with showing Elizabeth's parents the ship.

Squinting against the sun, he suddenly noticed that Teague's ship was gone. Quickly turning around, he saw _Gold Teliza_ disappear from view. He snorted humorlessly under his breath, annoyed by feeling disappointed with Teague choosing an escape over confronting his mother. It was both predictable and astonishing that he had just run away.

"Here you are," Elizabeth said with a smile, emerging from below. "I'm sorry for leaving you," she said, approaching her parents. "I hope Jack is taking good care of you?" she asked with a hint of humor in her voice.

"He certainly is," Christelle laughed.

"Where is Blaxton?" Elizabeth asked, turning to Jack.

"Captain," Ragetti broke into the conversation, Pintel threading next to him. "We found this in the water," he said, answering Jack's questioning look, and producing a hat from behind him. "This was inside," he said, pointing to the piece of parchment, "floatin' like that," he added uncertainly, handing everything to Jack who stared at him with a frown that appeared on his face even before any dark thoughts began flooding his mind.

* * *

Celeste shrugged the dress off herself, and grabbing the dress that Elizabeth had given her, she pressed it to her figure to see if she would like to wear it. She smiled at the dark blue color that reminded her of-

The door to her cabin suddenly opened and she gasped in surprise when instead of Jack or Elizabeth she saw a stranger.

James eyes' widened, and he almost tripped over his own feet trying to back out of the cabin as quickly as possible. "I'm so sorry," he said, closing his eyes, even though he was already facing the corridor instead of the cabin. "I thought it was my cabin. I'm sorry," he added, reaching for the door knob to close the door.

Celeste blinked a few times, and then smirked, amused by the amount of embarrassment in the man's voice. Taking advantage of the fact that his back was turned to her, she soundlessly pulled the dress over her head and smoothed it with her hands, so when he wanted to close the door behind him, she was already near the door, fully dressed.

"It was you who helped me climbed aboard, wasn't it?" she asked.

James turned around, not quite succeeding in keeping himself from looking her up and down. "Yes," he nearly gasped, releasing a breath he did not know he had been holding.

She laughed. "I'm Celeste."

James took her hand in his and introduced himself, politely expressing his joy at making her acquaintance.

She seemed even more amused but also intrigued although he could not imagine why. "I was too confused to thank you before, so let me thank you now," she said with a smile.

"I didn't do anything worth thanking for," James assured her in a low and somewhat grim voice. "But I can certainly relate to feeling confused," he said, his mouth twitching into a smile. "I also wasn't here for the last few years."

Celeste widened her eyes at him. "Oh dear." She shook her head, laughing, her long, wavy, black hair falling over her shoulders. "How many former ghosts are on this ship?"

James found himself laughing briefly as well, the sound as strange as surprisingly pleasant, rejuvenating.

"As far as I know only four. So far," he added with a faint smirk. "Elizabeth's parents, you, and I."

"Only them and us," Celeste said, amused, and again, James could not quite pinpoint the source of her amusement.

But as he was searching for said source, he quite accidentally noticed the unique color of her eyes; dark violet eyes that seemed to glimmer when she smiled.

* * *

"This is Blaxton's hat," Elizabeth said, taking the hat from Jack when he began unrolling a small piece of parchment that was tucked inside.

"It must have fallen overboard," Jack muttered not as convincingly as he had intended.

"Could somebody tell me where is my ship?"

Everyone looked at Teague who suddenly appeared next to them, his voice sharper than usual, and for the first time it occurred to Elizabeth that there might have been moments in the past when he had not been so majestically calm. Christelle and Weatherby exchanged a questioning look while Elizabeth swirled around only then noticing the absence of _Gold Teliza_.

Jack stared at Teague, cold shivers running up his spine. He clenched his jaw, shifting his gaze back to the parchment in his hands.

Elizabeth turned to him as well, almost expecting him to make a cautiously sarcastic remark about the possibility of a mutiny and Teague's crew deciding to leave him behind.

But no remark was made and she froze, watching Jack's face. "What is it?" she asked in a hollow voice, taking a few steps toward Jack, her eyes shifting between his eyes and the parchment in his hands.

He looked at her but before he managed to say anything she snatched the brown parchment out of his hands.

The piece of paper was old and tattered, a faded drawing of the key in the background barely visible, overshadowed by uneven letters written on the parchment in what did not look like ink.

Elizabeth's face drained of all color at the two words so heavy with dark memories despite the glowing brightness of the place...

Deafened by the beating of her own heart, she could hardly hear Jack giving orders and informing Cotton in an artificially even, metallic voice about their new heading:

Isla Cruces.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Because I got a couple of questions concerning this, I just wanted to clarify that all the characters who came back to life are as old as they had been at the moment of their death. Therefore, both Elizabeth's and Jack's mothers are in their thirties :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 12**

"'Lizbeth," Jack followed Elizabeth, trying to stop her in the frantic search she refused to give up.

Their parents, the crew, and James – everyone had been helping in searching the _Black Pearl_. The ship had been thoroughly searched several times and there was no sign of Blaxton anywhere.

"Lizzie," Jack tried to catch her hand but she snatched it free opening the door to another cabin and calling their son's name.

Jack watched her for a moment with a worried frown, and when she wanted to run past him to go back into the corridor he gently but decidedly grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around, trapping her between his body and the wall.

"Lizzie, he isn't here," he whispered, propping her chin with his hand to make her focus on him. She bit her lip, still not looking at him. "We would've found him already if he was."

She stood silently, motionlessly, and only after a longer while she finally looked up, her eyes drowning in tears that rolled down her cheeks when she blinked.

"You know he can't come to a harm," Jack said reassuringly in a quiet voice, cradling her face in his hands. "He's immortal," he added with a broken smile, brushing the tears away with his lips and leaning his forehead against hers.

"It won't keep him from feeling scared or cold or feeling pain," Elizabeth whispered in a shaking voice. "He's just a child, Jack."

"I know," Jack more mouthed than said, closing his eyes with a small grimace that made Elizabeth's hands travel to his face and cup it like he was cupping hers.

They exchanged a faint, sad smile.

"What does Jones want with us?" Elizabeth asked after a pause, drawing a breath to keep from crying. "I know you said he might want revenge but..." She shook her head, her hands sliding onto his shoulders, her gaze drifting away from Jack, missing a grim shadow of anxiety that flitted across his face. "It just seems so abstract to me. Do you think he will want the _Flying Dutchman_ back?" she whispered doubtfully, looking back at him. "Jack?" she prompted, hit by an unpleasant suspicion that something was wrong, that there was something on his mind that he was not telling her.

"It's nothing, Lizzie," Jack said, quicker than it was perhaps necessary, suddenly reluctant to share the other part of the legend with her, now that everything was so much more complicated than several hours ago.

"I want to know what you think. I can see that you are thinking about something," she said, and a feverish edge to her voice made him even more certain that he should not tell her everything just now... but there was also that glimpse of determination in her eyes that meant she would not rest until she found out what he was keeping from her.

"I didn't have the time to tell you everything... about that legend," Jack said with a small sigh, looking her straight in the eye. "It's nothing too alarming," he added immediately, noticing a glimmer of panic in Elizabeth's eyes. He grasped her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him. "Especially that Jones can't possibly know about that," he said reassuringly but as soon as the words that had seemed so perfectly logical to him not so long ago had left his mouth, he realized that they were not logical at all.

"Know about what?" Elizabeth widened her eyes at him, her voice hollow from anxiety.

"Apart from the chest there is also a dagger... I have a drawing of it somewhere," Jack said, searching his coat's pockets.

"A dagger?" she frowned, confused.

Jack could feel the piece of paper with the drawing under his fingertips but he did not pull it out of his pocket, deciding to finish the story first. "Aye. It's a... it's called the dagger of water and fire-"

"Jack." Elizabeth's hands clenched around the fabric of his coat.

He looked at her uncertainly, a look she knew only too well, the look that usually preceded a waterfall of potentially lethal details that he had carefully omitted before.

"A person who was brought back to life by an immortal person can," he took a breath, "kill this immortal person with that dagger, and by doing that become immortal but Jones doesn't know about that," he quickly added, hoping that it would prevent Elizabeth from-

"What do you mean he doesn't know about that? How do you know he doesn't know about that? You can't know what he knows and what he doesn't know!"

-shouting.

"Lizzie-"

"Why are you telling me about this only now?" she continued, disregarding his attempts to calm her down. "You should've told me-"

"I didn't plan on keeping it from you," Jack cut in. "It's just... that there was too much happening at once-"

"What could possibly demand more attention than the fact that Blaxton was- is! in danger!" Elizabeth exclaimed, only then the meaning of the words hitting her with full force. She leaned against the wall with a gasp. "He can- he actually can-" she whispered, choking on the words.

"Lizzie." Jack made her look at him, his eyes boring into hers with utmost seriousness. "Even if Jones knows about the dagger, even if knows that he was brought back to life by somebody immortal, even if knows the entire legend, there is still something he can't possibly know because nobody apart from us knows about it." Elizabeth looked at him in silence, thinking about his words. Jack lowered his voice to a whisper. "He doesn't know it's Blaxton who is immortal. He can't know that."

"So why did Jones kidnap him?" Elizabeth asked after a pause, the temptation to hope for the best appealing to her too greatly to be so easily accepted.

"Because he's a child. As simple as that." Jack placed his open palms on Elizabeth's cheeks. "I'm sure it's as simple as that."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm so-"

"Don't be," Jack put his finger across her lips. "Everything will be alright. We'll reach Isla Cruces in two days."

"Two days!..." Elizabeth hid her face in her hands with a half-groan, half-sob.

Jack grimaced and quickly wrapped his arms around her, closing her in a tight embrace. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, staring into the empty air with unseeing eyes.

"Jack, I won't stand two days of not knowing..." she trailed off biting her lip to keep from crying. "Why can't we just catch up with him before Isla Cruces?" she asked quietly. "The _Black Pearl_ is faster than the _Gold Teliza_, and Jones is mortal now." She drew back to look at him. We should fight."

Jack was silent for a moment but she recognized that it was not the silence that meant he was mulling over her words but rather the silence before he would try convincing her to do what he thought was right. "I think we should allow him to believe he's ahead of us."

* * *

Soundlessly, pondering the words he had overheard, Teague walked back toward the galley, leaving Jack and Elizabeth alone in the corridor to continue their quiet conversation.

He pushed the door open and walked in, his eyes skimming over Celeste, Elizabeth's parents, and James who were all gathered there.

His eyes stopped at Celeste but she looked away rather abruptly which drew James' attention. He glanced at Teague who just slowly made his way around the table, and James had a brief, abstract impression that it could very well be the man's heavy steps, and not the sea that made the ship sway.

"How are they?" Christelle addressed Teague when he sat down, her voice heavy with worry. Paradoxically, it was her grandson's disappearance that made her start feeling alive again because only now it became painfully clear that it was a _life_ she was living, and not a dream. All of the most troubling memories had returned, and she shuddered inwardly at one, particular recollection, at the strange memory of her hand clasped in her husband's hand... his hand growing warmer and warmer... or had it been her own growing colder?... "How are they?" she repeated, dismissing all other thoughts and wishing to concentrate only on what was happening now.

"They were in the middle of a conversation. I didn't want to disturb them," Teague said, turning his gaze to her.

"How could it happen?" Governor Swann said with a frown. "Has no one seen that man? There is a dozen of... sailors here," he quickly cleared his throat. "They couldn't possibly be all below when it happened."

"Hardly a man, Governor," James observed in a low voice.

Weatherby looked away with a sigh and something that seemed like a nod. Christelle shifted her eyes between them.

"Do you know him?" Christelle asked, leaning toward her husband and placing her hand over his.

"I saw him once," Governor Swann answered, wrapping his fingers around his wife's hand.

"So he lost the _Flying Dutchman_..." James thought out loud, trying to collect the shreds of his memories, wondering what had happened after he had died. For the first time he tried to put together the pieces of not his own life but of everything else that had happened since his death. "Who stabbed the heart?" he asked, looking at Teague, the only person in the cabin who could know the answer to this question.

Celeste stared at the floor, despite the nagging sense of being watched. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking at him, even for a moment. She scolded herself inwardly for even thinking about him at a moment like this. Her grandson was all that mattered right now and she tried to forget, forget, forget! about everything else.

"William Turner," Teague replied, tilting his head to the side.

James seemed surprised, and yet not too astonished. "So he chose his father, after all," he said more to himself than to anybody else.

Governor Swann's eyebrows knitted in thought.

"He didn't choose anything," Teague countered in a humming voice that made Celeste curl up her hands into fists, digging her nails in the palms of her hands to keep herself from lifting her gaze to look at him. "Jack was going to stab the heart but Jones ran a sword through the boy and Jack made him stab the heart instead. There was either death or the _Dutchman_ for him. But he's no longer the captain," he added after a pause. "He was freed from his curse but that's a very long story to tell. His father captains the _Dutchman _now."

Christelle tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, wondering if she really was the most confused person in the cabin, for she definitely felt like she was.

"Captain Jack Sparrow sacrificed immortality for William Turner." James shook his head with a humorless snort, staring pensively into the distance. "The world is full of wonders."

"Aye," Teague agreed slowly. "But these are always the same wonders," he said under his breath, his gaze lingering on Celeste before he shifted his eyes to the window.

* * *

His feet could easily get through, and so could his hands and arms. The trouble began (and, in fact, ended) with his head that was just too big to squeeze it through the bars.

With a sigh of defeat – not an ultimate defeat but defeat nonetheless – Blaxton slumped onto the floor, looking grimly around the cell. His apparent inability to escape made him feel sad and embarrassed. There was always a way out of everywhere and he was certain that his Dad would have already found a way out ten times.

The brig of the _Gold Teliza _was a very unpleasant place, for Teague believed it ought be precisely that – an unpleasant place. Blaxton warily glanced around, not really scared of rats but not too fond of them either. He propped his head on his elbows, and pursed his lips in resignation.

"We kidnap! We kidnap!"

He straightened up, caught off guard by a familiar voice.

"Feather Holder!" he exclaimed joyfully at the sight of his Mum's parrot. The parrot, oddly, seemed to like the name even though it was not a particularly flattering one, as it originated from Jack calling it 'stupid feather-holder' at the times when his patience was running thin, for the parrot seemed to enjoy aggravating him, despite the fact that he was the one who had spent many sleepless nights teaching it his and Elizabeth's song.

Feather Holder clapped its wings and flew between the bars, landing on Blaxton's knee.

"We're stuck here," Blaxton said with a shrug, giving the bird a sad look.

The parrot tilted its head to the side. "Don't give a hoot!"

"Grandpa Teague said that a brig has to be a place from which no one escapes," Blaxton thought out loud for the parrot's benefit.

"We rrrifle and loot."

Blaxton sighed but then, suddenly, his eyes lit up. "No one, except for the Captain of the ship!"

He jumped to his feet causing the parrot to fly from his knee to his shoulder. "Grandpa said that sometimes it may happen that you get locked up in your own brig," he continued excitedly, explaining his train of thought to Feather Holder, while running around the cell and inspecting, very closely, every part of it.

"Yo ho?" the parrot screeched a bit sceptically, not really liking the fact that Blaxton was so vigorously running around because it was making sitting on his shoulder difficult.

"You should always know how to escape from your own brig," Blaxton concluded, lowering his voice, just in case.

He was about to continue his speech but then he noticed something in the wall. Bringing his face near to it, he ran his hand over the rough surface that seemed to-

His breath caught when a part of the wall suddenly moved, and he fell forward through what seemed to be a slightly undersized door. But the pain caused by the fall did not matter because Blaxton was totally overjoyed by his discovery.

"We found it!" he exclaimed, quickly crawling deeper into the hole, unafraid of how dark it was inside. "We found a secret passage!"

The parrot seemed reluctant to follow but after a moment of hesitation decided to follow nonetheless.

"I think-" Blaxton started but broke off when the ship swayed, causing the secret door to closed shut, leaving him and the parrot in complete darkness.

Blaxton quickly crawled back and tried to push it open but the door just refused to move.

"Oi?" the parrot inquired, for once abandoning the song's lyrics.

Blaxton tried to open the door once more but to no avail. "We just have to find the door on the other side," he said at last with as much conviction in his voice as he could muster.

He could hear the parrot flap its wings and then land on his shoulder, somehow locating it in the darkness. It lightly poked the side of Blaxton's face and screeched firmly: "Oi."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 13**

Was that promise fake like all the others? Her name on his lips when he was falling into the darkness must have awakened a storm in her heart but was that storm enough to make her return his heart to him?

He stared into the mirror trying to understand why the nightmare continued, why he had returned to the world as a monster, not as the man he once was, as if the curse still lingered in every fibre of his body despite the fact that the _Flying Dutchman_ was no longer his to command, the suffering was no longer his to endure...

If he was alive again, how was it possible that his heart was still gone, that it still rested somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, pierced with a broken sword of that trickster by a limp hand of a dying man?

She always relied on the world and the swirl of coincidences to fulfill her promises. She was not to be trusted and he should never forget-

If it was not because of her that he was back in the living world – and even if it was – he would be more careful now, more cautious. He would restore all the pieces of his shattered self – and watch her and all the others shatter instead.

He would find his heart and he would regain immortality but this time it would not go with a price. He would be immortal _and_ free, immune to Calypso's deceiving magic. Not only the sea but the entire world would be his.

He was above the world and above love. He was beyond everything now. The suffering was no longer his to endure. The suffering was to be endured by others.

Davy Jones turned away from the mirror with an angry frown, and stormed out of the cabin heading for the ship's brig.

* * *

"I'll stay with her," Christelle repeated reassuringly in a soft whisper, looking at Jack who was still sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking Elizabeth's hair with the back of his hand, despite his intention to go take the helm and collect his thoughts while she was asleep. He was half-aware of what he was doing, half-aware of not being alone with her, half-aware of everything...

He nodded but his eyebrows knitted even more at the prospect of leaving. He felt overwhelmed by all the memories that were coming back to him, crashing against him.

"_I don't want to sleep. I want to look at me wife."_

He clenched his jaw, and tried to ignore the fact that he was being haunted by that particular memory. He could not help feeling that he had made the same mistake again, that he had failed her again, in a similar way, letting sweet serenity muffle his senses and notice the danger a heartbeat too late.

"_Let's... not sleep, then."_

He had lost her that night. He might have lost her that night forever if their fates were not kind enough to allow them find each other again. But he knew only too well that fate was rarely kind and he feared a change in the winds of luck and the darkness that would follow.

It did not matter that Blaxton had always been running freely around the ship, that he had fallen overboard a couple of times, that he had got lost in Manila once... It all did not matter now and could not serve as an excuse to explain why it was possible for Davy Jones to kidnap him.

_He_ should have kept him safe.

"We'll stay with her, Jack," Christelle repeated patiently.

Jack brought his face closer to Elizabeth's and brushed his lips across her cheek, carefully sliding his hand out of her hair before reluctantly rising to his feet.

Governor Swann watched the scene in silence, contemplating the reverence he noticed in Jack's gestures. He had seen glimpses of such reverence before, all promptly learned and preserved or false altogether but this was different. Not because the man was a pirate, and the contrast between the life he must have lived and his behavior, how gentle he was with Elizabeth was a curious phenomenon in itself; but rather because it was so natural and sincere.

Jack left the cabin, silently closing the door behind him. Christelle shifted her eyes to Elizabeth and then looked Governor Swann with a small sigh.

"He thinks it's his fault," she whispered. "They both think it's their fault."

"I'm surprised nothing similar happened in the past. This is not a safe life and a ship is not a place where children should be raised," the Governor said a bit dryly, subconsciously trying to cover up his own anxiety, his grandson's laughter still ringing in his ears.

"Weatherby, don't say that," Christelle shook her head with a small, reprimanding grimace. "It doesn't matter if we're at sea or on land. It could've happened anywhere." She looked back at Elizabeth, brushing an astray lock off her forehead when she shifted in her sleep.

"I'm sorry," Governor Swann said after a pause, his eyes traveling between his wife and his daughter. "I don't want to be too severe on Elizabeth's choices but most of them are still unclear to me," he said, suddenly finding the words strange, as if his heart already knew the truth his mind was still finding difficult to accept.

"We've missed many years of her life," Christelle said under her breath.

"Perhaps too many," Weatherby observed in a low voice.

Christelle looked at him for a moment in silence, as if hesitating to ask the question she had in mind. "Do you really dislike him or do you just pretend that you do?"

Governor Swann looked at her, nonplussed. "I'm very far from disliking anybody who loves our daughter and whom she loves," he answered diplomatically, beginning to accept the words as he was saying them out loud.

Christelle did not seem satisfied with his answer. "Could you just forget about all those little, circumstantial details and just look at him as a human being?" she asked quietly with a small smile.

"Do you look at him as a human being, Christelle?" he asked with a glimmer in his eyes. Christelle raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression you and Elizabeth look at him as if he was half-divine. At least."

"Well," Christelle replied, reaching out and taking her husband's hand in hers when he approached her. "If it makes you feel better I consider _you_ at least half-divine as well," she said and smiled but the smile quickly faded into the sadness of the situation.

Governor Swann brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

* * *

Davy Jones blinked and frowned, his tentacles becoming almost still, as if also bewildered by the sight... or rather the lack of it.

"What is this?" he bellowed, turning to look at one of the crew members whom he had called upon the the baffling discovery.

The pirate looked at him grimly, the only reason why he and the others had not stopped him from taking over Captain Teague's ship their fear for their Captain's grandson's life because Jones had threatened the crew to kill the child should they not follow his orders.

"How can I know?"

"Do not test my patience," Davy Jones hissed, the claw closing around the man's neck.

But the man held his gaze and the lack of fear in the pirate's eyes made Jones release him with an impatient huff. He glanced at the keys in his hand, at the untouched lock – and at the empty cell.

"The brat couldn't just disappear, could he?" he asked angrily.

The pirate shrugged, keeping a blank expression to conceal his own confusion over Blaxton's disappearance, deciding not to voice the thought that the boy was a Sparrow, and with Sparrows everything was possible.

* * *

"A soulless night."

Celeste turned from the rail, giving James a mildly questioning look.

"A soulless night is what my mother called a night when you could neither see the moon nor any stars," James explained, stepping toward the rail, and placing one of his hands over it.

He could hear waves crashing against the hull, such a familiar, terrifyingly mesmerizing sound. He could almost recall the day when he had fallen in love with the sea.

"A loss, everywhere we look," Celeste said thoughtfully, resuming her former pose, resting her elbows on the rail and staring out into the night.

"It's all about avoiding the losses but once you start avoiding them you notice there is little left," James said in a low voice that seemed to mingle with the sea so well that she could not quite tell where his voice ended and the ocean's humming began.

She smiled to herself. "I used to think that but it's not true, you see."

"It isn't?" he asked, sincerely interested, intrigued by a rueful note in her voice.

"There is little justice in this world. Every time I thought I was unhappy enough for everything to change for the better something bad would happen again. Do I sound as bitter as I think I do?" she added with a hollow snort.

"Bitter," James echoed, finding the word strangely appropriate – to his own thoughts. "That's a good word."

She laughed briefly, the sound disappearing into the night before James fully acknowledged it. He watched her hang her head and look down into the ocean, her hair curtaining the side of her face. "Do you know what ordeals they've gone through?" she asked in a low voice, changing the subject. "The situation is worrisome in itself, I know, but there is just something in the way they respond to it..." Celeste traced the _Pearl_'s rail with her fingertips. "Like they have suffered before," she whispered grimly.

James turned toward the sea, averting his eyes from her. "I died seven years ago and I don't know what happened in the meantime. I guess your-" he trailed off, to his own surprise for some reason tripping over the word, "your... husband may know more about that," he said, shifting his eyes to her when she chuckled again, the same brief, hollow sound, only this time more bitter and overtly false.

"He laughed for three days when I mentioned getting married to him," she said, the words hardly making their way through her clenched teeth even though she tried to sound lighthearted. "He is not my husband," she added, giving James a look that he correctly interpreted as the end of the conversation about this particular matter.

He apologized and she rolled her eyes.

"I am the last person who would wish to pursue the subject of marriage," he said, deciding that he had to quickly say something that would prevent her from labeling him as an annoying interlocutor who kept being sorry for his recurring awkward comments. "Last time I proposed to a woman she fell off the fort straight into the sea."

This time the chuckle was more sincere and it was Celeste who apologized for reacting that way to such a statement. "I hope she was alright?" she asked, half-turning toward him.

A ghost of a thoughtful smile flitted across James' face. "It was Elizabeth."

"Oh," Celeste said after a pause, and he could not read the expression on her face. "Well, at least she fell not jumped, is that right?"

James lowered his head, biting back a smile. "Yes, I prefer to believe it was an accident."

"Should I reexamine my assumption that you and my son were friends?" she asked, wishing for the humorous conversation to take her mind off all the grim thoughts, if only for a moment.

James shook his head. "No, not reexamine. Dismiss."

Celeste was about to retort when she noticed a movement near the helm, a familiar figure taking over the wheel.

She excused herself, and walked off, leaving James alone, his eyes fixed on his arm against which her hand had brushed when she had walked past him.

* * *

It was not easy to convince her parents to let her leave the cabin without them but Elizabeth finally succeeded in persuading them to let her go, having promised that she would not do anything apart from spending a few moments alone.

Once she had woken up from her short, troubled sleep she knew she would not fall asleep again, not until Blaxton was back at home, back on the _Black Pearl_. She also could not stand listening to her parents' reassuring words even though she felt guilty because of it. But every soothing gesture made her heart clench and she just needed to get away from all the comforting words that just could not get through the sense of anxiety enveloping her like a cloud of humid air.

She walked up the stairs and made her way toward the ship's bow. She stopped near the rail, searching the darkness, blinking back the tears at the thought that kept returning to her; that somebody she loved most in this world was somewhere out there, in the darkness of the night, all alone, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had not felt helpless in many years and the feeling was painfully new and searingly overwhelming.

* * *

"I apologize for my bluntness despite my nautical incompetence but why aren't we pursuing that man to catch him in the cannon fire before he reaches any island at all?" Celeste asked, standing next to Jack at the helm, his features barely visible in the faint lantern light that reminded her of those rare moments of sanity when she would pack their few belongings and leave Shipwreck Cove for a small town or a village somewhere far, where there was no Teague and no pain, where she did not need to shout but could only whisper tales about fairies and adventures to her little son.

"I shall keep this request in mind, Mum," Jack said, giving her a small smirk that did not quite reach his eyes.

"What request?" She blinked, perplexed.

"To blow Teague's ship into pieces should an opportune moment present itself."

Celeste tossed her head to the side with a muffled snort. "I couldn't care less what happens to his ship, his guitars, coats, teeth, and everything else."

Jack was silent for a moment. "It wasn't his fault, you know." She shifted her eyes to him. "When we made port I vanished into the crowd and got on board a different ship. I was twelve. I thought I could do without a half-stranger giving me orders with such authority as if I owed him my life."

"Jack-" she started, guessing where his words were going, but he shook his head asking her to let him continue.

"I should've come back to you. I don't have a good excuse as to why I didn't. At first I was angry you had sent me with him."

"I wanted you to get to know him," she cut in a quiet voice, placing her hand on Jack's shoulder. "More... better... at all?" She sighed. "My last mistake, I guess. Or... at least one of the last ones," she said, squinting into the dark, empty air.

"I didn't want to get to know him any better than I thought I did. But that's irrelevant. What I want to say-"

"I got seven letters from you and you did come back."

Jack tilted his head backwards, surveying the dark sky. "Two years later. Three months too late," he added in a barely audible whisper.

Celeste smiled. "You couldn't know."

Jack's mouth twitched and he blinked. "Mum... how do you know I came back?" he asked cautiously after a pause, turning to look at her.

She held his gaze but did not answer. "What did you do when you left his ship?"

"That's not my favorite chapter," he said, feeling forced to accept her silent refusal to answer his question.

"I was afraid you'd say that. But I still want to know. Not tonight but I do want to know. Tonight you can tell me about your favorite one."

"It's this one. Or was, until several hours ago."

"Jack."

"I spent half of my life retrieving what I had lost. I keep losing things, Mum," Jack added in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"It doesn't matter as long as you manage to get them back," Celeste said barely above a whisper.

"That is very true."

Celeste stiffened at the sound of Teague's voice, her eyes darkening.

"I saw Elizabeth at the bow," Teague said, looking at Jack over Celeste's shoulder.

Jack shifted his gaze to his mother who rolled her eyes and looked away with a barely perceptible shrug.

"Don't worry, Jackie. I'm sure your Mum won't shoot me."

"Aye, that's exactly what I'm most concerned with," Jack muttered, calling Mr. Cotton to take the helm before Teague stepped any closer to it.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 14**

Walking with his head bent, Blaxton wondered out loud if all secret passages were so long. He began to doubt if there was a way out of this one even though it seemed improbable that there was not... Not to mention that in such absolute darkness it was difficult to say if he had not already missed several doors. He tried to keep checking his surroundings with the palms of his hands but it was not possible to check every inch of the passage.

Even the parrot seemed to get tired with their march because it became quiet, except for the flapping of wings that somehow made Blaxton feel better, reminding him that he was not alone.

He was about to say something out loud to remind the parrot that it was not alone either when he suddenly bumped against an invisible obstacle.

Slumping down onto his knees, Blaxton rubbed his forehead, pouting slightly at the wall he could not see but only for a second because it quickly dawned on him that the obstacle might be a concealed way out!

Having informed the parrot about his suspicions, he started pushing the wall with all his might, his hands searching the uneven surface, hoping to come across something that could make the seemingly dead end turn into a door and let them out of the secret passage – but to no avail.

With a huff of disappointment Blaxton fell onto the ground, trying to catch his breath which was ragged from the effort he had put into the task.

"There has to be-" he started, leaning his back against the wall behind him but the sentence was left unfinished because the wall suddenly moved, causing him to fall over the opening and tumble onto the floor of what turned out to be Grandpa Teague's quarters.

"We made it!" he exclaimed happily, jumping to his feet.

The parrot flew over his head and he swirled around to follow it with his eyes-

But his smile faded at the sight of Davy Jones narrowing his eyes at him.

* * *

"You haven't changed-" Teague started in a low voice after a longer while they had spend just standing next to each other in silence.

"Well, you have," Celeste snapped without looking at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped closer to the rail.

"You haven't changed in my memories, Celeste. You're as vivid as you've always been," Teague finished after a pause in a lower tone, her voice, every word she spoke catching him off guard with the amount of memories it was able to evoke.

"You've always had most vivid imagination. But people aren't vivid, Teague. People are living creatures not images." She stepped on her tiptoes and then fell onto her hills again repeating the nervous pattern before she noticed what she was doing. She drew a quick breath scolding herself inwardly for her nervousness.

"You always counter my every word," Teague observed slowly, risking a small smile that she doused with painful immediacy.

"Don't waste your time with me, then. I'm sure you can find crowds of fanatical listeners in every port. How is your guitar? I'm sure you've taken better care of it than of our son," she said sharply, squinting into the night in front of her, trying to keep herself from looking at him.

"Was I supposed to keep him in the brig so he wouldn't run off my ship?" he asked levelly, his voice bearing traces of harshness that she was somewhat glad to recognize as traces of guilt.

"I'm not talking about that," she said in a low, firm voice. "What did you do after I had died? What did you do when he came back to the Cove?"

"What did he tell you?" Teague asked, watching her intently, waiting for her to at last turn around to face him - like she always did.

Celeste shook her head, giving the dark sky a sour smile. "Why do I even bother asking? You didn't do, didn't say anything, of course."

"Do we have to talk about that right now?" Teague asked, his voice heavy with smoldering anger she remembered so well.

She turned toward him in one, sharp movement. "Has he ever used the word _Father _when speaking to you? Has it ever bothered you that he hasn't? Has it ever bothered you that for most of my life I cried myself to sleep? Has anything, ever bothered you?" she asked in a metallic voice, holding his darkening gaze for a moment before turning around to leave.

She almost tripped over her own feet when he gripped her shoulders pulling her backward toward him.

"Your every tear, Celeste," he whispered into her ear. "Your every grimace... the fading of your every smile..."

* * *

Elizabeth brushed few locks of hair off her face, slowly leaning forward, trying to imagine she could actually see something in the darkness. She could feel the dark wood of the _Black Pearl_ under her palms. It felt deceitfully warm, as if everything was alright.

"What are you doing, love?"

Jack's voice was hushed, his breath hot on her neck, and she gasped before he turned her around to face him.

"Nothing," Elizabeth breathed, her eyes wide open but devoid of light. Jack sighed, his grip on her arms loosening a little. "I wasn't thinking about swimming over there," she added, squinting.

He looked at her, trying to recall her in such a state, as if a possibility of comparison could make the sight of her sad eyes more bearable. He tightened his hold on her. "We're sailing with full speed," he said in a low voice.

Elizabeth blinked. "We're catching up?"

"We're going to see if we can," Jack said cautiously, his nose twitching.

"Of course we can," Elizabeth retorted, annoyed. "So you were going to sneak on board without telling me?"

"Lizzie, have you noticed that you're always accusing me of not telling you something exactly when I'm doing just that?" Jack asked, pulling her away from the rail.

She subconsciously laced her hand with his but the expression on her face remained stern. "You'd wake me up to tell me about your plan, then? And just when did you come up with it in the first place? Before or after our last conversation?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "I was trying to avoid giving you orders, darling, but if you really want it to come to that..." He swirled her around, backing her against the ship's mast, one hand on her arm, the other sliding into her hair. "I'm going there alone."

"What is this supposed to mean?" Elizabeth exclaimed, leaning forward, and widening her eyes at him.

Jack pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. "Don't shout, love."

"Jack!" Elizabeth fumed.

"It makes no sense for us to go there together," he said with a glint of utmost seriousness in his eyes.

"Oh, so going together is the only option beside you going there alone?" she started even before Jack had finished his sentence. "What about me going there alone?"

Jack inched his face closer to hers. "That's not an option."

"That's for me to decide," Elizabeth said, glaring at him. "Give me the drawing of that dagger. If Jones has the dagger already I'll try to find it."

Jack sighed. "You're not going and that's an order."

"You can't give orders to a co-captain," Elizabeth said, thrusting up her chin.

"I made you co-captain for your vanity's sake," Jack said, catching Elizabeth's hand before it collided with his cheek. He quickly kissed her hand and looked her straight in the eye. "Lizzie. I'm just going to take advantage of our ship being virtually invisible at night and see if I can gather some pieces of information. I still think we should wait until reaching Isla Cruces to confront Jones and find out what he wants."

Elizabeth bit her lip, a frown forming on her forehead, her face livid. "Are you saying you won't bring Blaxton back?"

"That's why I didn't think telling you that I'm going there would make much sense," Jack replied with involuntary hesitation.

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. "You're not serious."

Jack rolled his eyes, tilting his head backwards before leaning toward her again and sprinkling her face with small kisses. "Lizzie, please. Let me do this my way."

"Stop kissing me!" Elizabeth shouted irritated when he leaned toward her again. Jack drew back with a pout. "Here are your options. I can go alone or we can go there together."

"These are your options, love," Jack complained and then fell silent, and Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at the look of concentration that appeared on his face. He grimaced and mumbled something under his breath and Elizabeth felt his hand brush against her hip while he was apparently searching for something in the darkness. She rested her head against the mast and sighed ostentatiously.

"How did you do that so quickly and without looking?" Jack muttered, finally locating the shackles but then Elizabeth lifted both of her hands and crossed her arms over her chest despite Jack's protests.

"Jack, this isn't funny!" Elizabeth said through her teeth. "You're not going there alone and that's final!"

"If you keep arguing like that for any longer the dawn will come sooner than you think."

Both Jack and Elizabeth turned their heads and looked at James who brought a lantern to the level of their faces, looking at them with a seemingly blank expression on his face.

"Eavesdropping should be punishable," Jack said with a twitch of his nose.

Elizabeth snorted under her breath, causing Jack to briefly narrow his eyes at her.

"You weren't exactly whispering," James said, shifting his eyes to Elizabeth when Jack opened his mouth to retort. "Elizabeth, I can go there."

"That's a superfluous demonstration of bravery, really," Jack said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

James shook his head, biting back a humorless smile. "I'm not demonstrating anything. But I have significantly less to lose than anybody else. Nobody mourned my first death so I don't think anybody would mourn my second one."

"James," Elizabeth interrupted him with a huff of exasperation.

Jack looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Even if it's not a demonstration it's still superfluous," he said clasping Elizabeth's hand in his, and making to leave.

"Is everything alright?" Governor Swann asked, suddenly appearing in front of them.

"So much for keeping it secret," Jack said in a low voice so only Elizabeth could hear him. She shrugged.

"Elizabeth?" Christelle asked gently, looking between her daughter and her son-in-law.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Mother. We were just having a little argument."

"Obviously not a serious one," Governor Swann observed under his breath, averting his eyes from Elizabeth when she looked at him.

"The problem has been solved," James cut in. "I'm going to clandestinely board the ship if we catch up with Jones before the night ends."

Jack blinked in indignation. "I can't remember being so arrogant after coming back from the dead," he said with a twitch of his nose.

Governor Swann's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Excuse me..." Celeste cautiously broke into the conversation, attracting everybody's attention. "Jack, is there a doctor on your ship?" she asked in a perfectly calm voice, looking at Jack.

"A doctor?" he echoed, glancing right and left.

"I think I broke your father's nose," Celeste explained with a small sigh, pointing somewhere over her shoulder.

Jack rubbed his forehead. Governor Swann blinked. Christelle bit her lip, politely offering her help in case it was needed.

* * *

"Rrrreally bad eggs!" Feather-Holder repeated for the third time since its tiny legs were tied together to a chair with a piece of rope.

Blaxton glanced at the parrot and shrugged, shifting his eyes to his own legs that were tied to a chair, and his hands that were tied together behind the chair's back. He was already trying to wiggle his hands out of the rope but it was not only not the easiest task but also not the nicest one because the rope was rough and it caused him to frown or grimace every time it scratched against his wrists.

He tried to keep his eyes fixed on Davy Jones to make sure he would not notice his struggles to free his hands.

Davy Jones was sitting at the table, leaning over a book or a map, Blaxton was not sure. He watched the tentacles dance around Jones' face, finding it both strange and fascinating to actually _see_ something he had only heard about before.

"Do they move by themselves or do you have to think about moving them?" Blaxton finally decided to voice the question that had bothered him for a while now.

Davy Jones froze, and slowly raised his head, his eyes focusing on Blaxton who looked back at him – or rather his tentacles - with sincere curiosity, a small frown on his face.

There was a pause, and then suddenly the tentacles sprung forward, stopping right in front of Blaxton's face. The parrot clapped its wings, uttering a loud, screeching _oi_. Blaxton straightened up, his eyes flying wide open but before Davy Jones had the time to smile with satisfaction relishing in having scared the child he noticed that the child seemed more amused by the trick than scared by it. With an angry huff he drew the tentacles back, glaring at Blaxton with his eyes so narrow that they were barely visible at all.

"It doesn't hurt you when you do that?" Blaxton asked, undeterred.

Davy Jones jumped to his feet and crossed the cabin with surprising speed despite the wooden leg. "Nothing hurts me," he said through his teeth looming over Blaxton.

Blaxton considered this for a moment. "Because you cut out your heart?" he continued with his questions, remembering what Uncle Gibbs had said, remembering that it was some kind of pain that had made Davy Jones cut out his heart in the first place. "Does all pain comes from the heart?" he asked, hit by an idea. If Davy Jones cut out his heart and now nothing hurt him-

His train of thought was interrupted by a pair of yellowish eyes piercing through him. "It seems that you know a fair share of interesting stories. Do you know the one about the _Black Pearl_ being dragged to the depths, I wonder?"

To his bewilderment Blaxton nodded. "She was dragged down to the Locker by the Kraken," he said, thrusting up his chin.

A flash of angry disappointment flickered across Davy Jones' face but only until Blaxton carelessly mentioned his Mum threatening the Kraken to give his Dad his hat, as well as other little details that quickly made Jones realize that the boy knew only a greatly altered and embellished version of the story.

"Oh but it's not what really happen," he said, chuckling darkly under his breath. Blaxton pursed his lips and looked at him in confusion. Davy Jones grabbed a nearby chair and slumped down onto it in front of Blaxton and the parrot. "So..." Having produced a pipe out of his pocket he leaned back in his chair, a small, triumphant smile on his face. "Do you want to know what really happened?"


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I know that Davy Jones seems to be very... _knowledgeable_ in this story, so I just wanted to say that I'm aware of that & that it will be explained in the (near) future ;)

Disclaimer:_ PotC _belong to Disney.

**Chapter 15**

"It doesn't look all that bad," Christelle said reassuringly, glancing up at Teague.

"It's been broken before," Teague said, giving her a lingering smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I'd say it looks even better than before," Jack muttered, glancing at Elizabeth who was standing next to him.

But she seemed lost in thought and did not even give him a mockingly warning look he had hoped to see. He looked at her for a moment and then reached for her hand. She looked up but did not say anything, and let him lead her out of the cabin.

Governor Swann watched them go but decided that it was more advisable to stay than to follow them and leave his wife alone with Teague. There was something unpredictable about the man and although it was fairly absurd to suspect him of anything, no harm was ever done by being cautious.

* * *

Celeste stood with her back turned to the sea, her eyes scanning the dark deck in the faint light of the lantern she was swinging in her hand, making the shadows dance.

From the distance, James watched her face, followed the movement of her hand when she raised it to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

The sea was louder now, tossing the waves against the ship, foretelling a tempest.

He tried to remember if he had ever felt so drawn to somebody before. He remembered the slow, sweet descent into a parallel world that was brighter and calmer than his everyday existence. It had happened three times and every time the feeling was similar even if the women were very different.

Now everything was different. It did not feel like descending at all. It felt like a never-ending ascension, and he marveled at the feeling itself... at the lantern light on her face... at her eyes that fluttered shut for just a moment before she opened them again, suddenly meeting his gaze.

* * *

"There will be a storm, Lizzie. You like storms," Jack narrowed his eyes in a smile, receiving only a more determined glare in response. He cleared his throat. "Not to mention that somebody has to be at the helm and I'm not leaving my ship to Teague even if that would cheer him and his nose up," Jack said, his face only inches from Elizabeth's.

"If you think that you can talk me into staying-" Elizabeth started but Jack cut her off.

"I can't believe I'm actually resorting to quoting him," he said with a grimace. "But... your friend Norrington made a good point suggesting that if you kept disagreeing with me no agreement would be reached before the sunrise."

"I can't recall him specifically mentioning it was _me_ disagreeing with you that posed a problem," Elizabeth retorted, narrowing her eyes at Jack who sighed. Elizabeth's hands found anchor on his shoulders and he caught her gaze, sad and serious. "Blaxton is immortal but you are not," she whispered so quietly that for a moment he was not sure if she had said it at all.

Jack's mouth twitched and he leaned forward cupping Elizabeth's face in his hands, loose strand of her hair getting tangled between his fingers. "It would've been too simple for Jones to just run me through as soon as he saw me."

"Wouldn't it also be too simple for him to run both of us through at the same time?" she asked after a pause.

Jack's forehead fell against hers and he closed his eyes with a groan. "You're not going to let it go, are you?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "No," she muttered decisively. "And if you don't want to leave the helm to Teague leave it to James." Jack's eyes snapped open. Elizabeth shrugged and pressed her lips to his with a small smile.

* * *

"If you apologize I'll break your nose too," Celeste said, watching James approach her with a slightly hesitant look on his face.

"He must have done something beside staring to deserve that," James said with a small smile.

"He lied."

"I see," James nodded, straightening up, and clasping his hands behind his back.

Celeste lifted her chin and bit back a smile, finding the movement strangely alluring.

"Are you sure?" he asked after a pause, searching her eyes in the shimmering light, struck by that glimpse of inexplicable amusement in her eyes which he had noticed before.

Celeste raised her eyebrows. "That he lied?" She looked away and then back at him. "I have to warn you that I'm all for _my friends' enemies are my enemies_ rule. Defending him won't get you anywhere."

"I wasn't going to defend him," James said with a small smile, stepping closer. "I was checking if you would start defending him," he added, finding the words too bold as soon as he had uttered them.

"By accusing myself? Don't count on that. I'm very, very selfish," she said, tilting her head to the side a bit more with every word.

"And I'm very, very..." James started but trailed off with a humorless smile. Celeste looked at him expectantly. "I often don't know what to say and right now it's one of those moments."

Celeste stifled a chuckle, and then bit her lip, her face growing thoughtful, brightened by a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "They say that actions speak louder than words," she said, holding his gaze.

He stared at her and she had a brief, absurd impression that he could read her mind. Averting her gaze from him she quickly turned toward the sea, moving the lantern further away from her face to make it impossible for him to see her face too clearly.

"I was always convinced that the sea didn't like me," she said, looking into the water.

James slowly exhaled, taking a step toward the rail to stand next to her. "Why would you think that?" he asked softly, glancing at her, and cautiously resting his elbows over the rail, very close to hers.

Celeste shrugged. "I don't know. It's just an impression," she said in a low voice.

"Have you ever done anything that could anger Calypso?" he asked with a small, humorous smile.

Celeste turned her head to look at him. "Calypso?"

James opened his mouth to answer but a whirlwind of hushed yet agitated voices interrupted him.

"A compromise has been reached," James broke into the apparently ongoing discussion, looking between Jack and Elizabeth.

"Yes," Elizabeth said, pushing her hair that was tied up with a piece of black lace under her hat. The clothes she was wearing reminded him of their meeting in Tortuga, except that now it did not look like she was in disguise; now she looked strikingly casual in these pirate clothes that must have become her second skin.

"Who is going, then?" Celeste asked, amused by the pout on Jack's face.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "We're both going," she said a bit haughtily, catching an irritating glint of humor in James' eyes.

"That's the compromise?" he asked, a smirk flickering across his lips.

"Yes," Jack and Elizabeth snapped in unison.

"So it's taken you hours to work out a compromise that is, in fact, exactly the same as the reason why you started working on a compromise in the first place? That's interesting," James said, not even trying to keep sarcasm out of his tone.

Celeste bit back a smile.

Jack's nose twitched. "And you want to leave the helm to him," he muttered to Elizabeth.

"The arrangement may be the same but earlier we didn't both agree to it and now we do. That's what a compromise is," Elizabeth explained, narrowing her eyes at James.

"If you say so," James said with a sigh.

Jack rolled his eyes.

* * *

Governor Swann waited for Teague to leave the cabin before letting go of a breath he did not know he had been holding. There was something overwhelmingly intimidating about the man and he did not feel comfortable in his presence.

Christelle rose to her feet and walked up to her husband, giving him a gently questioning look when she noticed a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I have just realized..." he started but trailed off, looking away.

"What is it, Weatherby?"

"Since I... came back I have been so concerned with Elizabeth, with you..." he looked up at her with a faint smile.

She returned the smile, taking his hands in hers like she used to do in the past when they were both young, when every gray morning in London was brighter than the sun itself.

"Yes?" she prompted.

"I was too preoccupied with the present to devote much thought to the past..." he grimaced and closed his eyes.

His face grew sad and for a moment he tried to imagine that none of it had ever happened, that he had never signed any documents, that the word _execution_ had never equaled lost lives of so many people whose face he would never see – but always remember.

* * *

"He'll be alright," James said in a low voice, noticing a worried look on Celeste's face. "He always is."

"Is he?" she asked after a pause, and there was a note of sadness in her voice that sent shivers up his spine.

"You're right. Perhaps it's not my place to judge that," he said, looking away. "Have I mentioned I sailed through a hurricane to capture him?" he said in a different tone, a brief, bitter smile flitting across his face. "I've just realized you may not know that you don't want to speak to me," he added pensively under his breath.

"Capture?" Celeste turned to him. "What for?"

"To hang him," James answered hollowly, finding strange relief in the cruel simplicity of truth, for it was the truth, was it not? He had looked at everything differently in the past but now, that so much of the past was gone and irretrievable all that was left was the truth; his actions and words bare in the light of irrelevant beliefs and motivations.

"Because of Elizabeth?" Celeste asked uncertainly, and he wondered how long was the moment of silence that had fallen after his statement.

"Because he was a pirate," James replied in a hollow voice. "I was a Commodore in the Royal Navy," he added in a distant tone, the words sounding strangely foreign to him. So many dreams, goals, fears, glimpses of glory and humiliation enclosed in a short sentence that meant both absolutely nothing – and half of his life.

"Now I see the similarity," Celeste said in a tone he had not expected, warm and almost playful and so bright that the meaning of her words had nearly escaped him. "Between you and Jack. Maybe that's why he tolerates you on his ship despite, well..."

James looked at her, sincerely baffled. "Similarity?"

She laughed under her breath. "As a child, he would come back after several hours of being gone, enumerating to me a long list of mischievous deeds he committed, and then on the next day I'd be told by people that all he was doing for the entire day was rescuing rabbits from drowning."

"I'm afraid I don't-" James started hesitantly.

"What I'm trying to say is that maybe you could tell me something good about yourself. I promise I'll find it interesting." James snorted under his breath. She smiled. "Or at least amusing."

* * *

"What is it?" Jack asked Elizabeth in a whisper, inching his face closer to hers when out of the corner of his eye he had noticed that she was staring at him.

His gaze focused, intense, his eyes scanning the _Gold Teliza_'s deck, he looked at Elizabeth only when she shrugged off the question.

"What is it, Lizzie?" he repeated with a small frown.

"I just like that look on your face," she said with a huff, looking away.

Jack blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "What look?" he asked with a barely perceptible smirk.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I don't think now it's the best time for nourishing your vanity," she snapped.

"It's you who started this," Jack countered with a pout.

"No, I didn't. Looking doesn't count. It's you who started talking," Elizabeth said in hushed voice, shooting him an impatient look.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her. "What look?" he pressed.

Elizabeth looked back at him, shaking her head in exasperation. She hesitated for a moment but then smiled a bit. "We have to go pirating more," she whispered, quickly leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jack gave her a lop-sided smile and she smiled back. "Now that our only option isn't leaving Blaxton with Teague this may actually be possible," Jack said in a low voice, grabbing Elizabeth's hand, and heading for the stairs.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to spend a few days with all of his grandparents," Elizabeth said in a low voice, trying to shrug off the anxiety, trying to forget what was the reason they were here in the first place.

"That's a dangerous idea, love. I wouldn't leave him in one room with my Mum and Teague. I wouldn't leave anyone in one room with them," Jack said with a twitch of his nose.

Elizabeth bit back a smile and then remembered about something. "Jack... your Mother said... well, more like mentioned... or even less than that..."

Jack placed his hand over her mouth and they both strained their ears but the corridor was quiet. Jack slowly slid his hand from Elizabeth's lips to her shoulder, and prompted her to continue while searching the dimly lit surroundings, casting aside those few memories that he had of this ship, subconsciously wondering how many years had passed since he was aboard Teague's ship for the last time.

"Well," Elizabeth sighed, not sure how to put into words what she had meant to ask. "Your Mother said something about... being a witch?" she asked with an uncertain smile.

"She told you that already? She must like you," Jack said, squinting, a smile hovering over his lips. Elizabeth gave him a questioning look. "My mother isn't a witch, if that's your question, Lizzie," he said, amused by a slightly disappointed look on her face. "My Mother... believed she was a witch," he added before Elizabeth had the time to answer.

Elizabeth blinked. "What do you mean she believed she was a witch? Why would she-" She stopped in mid-sentence, rendered silent by the sound of footsteps.

She exchanged a look with Jack who pulled her into a shadowed space under the stairs, his arm around her waist, half of his face in her hair. She slightly turned her head and they both held their breath, glancing at each other when the steps grew heavier. Jack raised his hand and tucked an astray lock of Elizabeth's hair under her hat. She smiled placing her hand over his and then sliding it into his sleeve. He rested his chin on her shoulder and they stood motionlessly, watching a dark shadow approach and then climb up the stairs, the scent of stale water lingering in the air even when they could already hear Davy Jones' steps reverberating on the deck above their heads.

"He is still cursed," Elizabeth said barely above a whisper.

"No wonder he's in such a foul mood," Jack said in a low voice, glancing up the stairs to make sure that nobody was there.

"I thought he would become who he was when he died," Elizabeth frowned.

"Maybe it's not possible without a heart," Jack said under his breath, an image of the _Flying Dutchman_ vanishing under the greenish sea flashing across his mind, the deafeningly silent memory of Elizabeth pressing her cheek to his chest bringing back the feeling of sorrow, of good bye, of change that would never happen. That day seemed so far away now, drowned in the sea of calm, stormy days that followed.

"How can he be mortal if he doesn't have a heart?" Elizabeth wondered out loud. "What if-"

"Lizzie, I'd wait with drawing hasty conclusions," Jack said, pulling her with him across the corridor.

They scurried across the corridor and then headed down the stairs to the brig which proved to be empty.

"I think we should start from the captain's quarters," Elizabeth whispered, glancing over her shoulder as they were climbing the stairs to return to the corridor.

"Captain's quarters are further to the right-" Jack started but trailed off, stopping dead in his tracks causing Elizabeth to nearly bump into him when she skipped over the last step.

"A visit from concerned parents. How touching," Davy Jones said with a sour sneer, regarding them with narrowed eyes.

Elizabeth stepped up to stand next to Jack. "Did you think we would just follow your requests?" she asked through her teeth, thrusting up her chin.

"Why wait until we reach Isla Cruces?" Jack cut in, narrowing his eyes in a fake smile. "A waste of time, really. Maybe we could swiftly clarify all misunderstandings between us and part on friendly terms, eh?"

Elizabeth glanced at him, not quite able to make her voice sound as lighthearted and not really believing it was going to work anyway.

"Misunderstandings?" Davy Jones repeated and then barked a laugh. "Actually, I've already clarified a few," he added after a pause, putting a mockingly thoughtful expression on his face. "That brat of yours didn't even know that you rowed away from your precious ship leaving his mother to perish," he said, looking at Jack, and then shifting his eyes to Elizabeth. "He also didn't know that you shackled his father to the mast and then escaped, leaving him to die." Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Elizabeth's face drain of all color. "How wrong of you to lie to a child," Davy Jones said with a dark, satisfied chuckle.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, his voice even. He turned his hand and clasped Elizabeth's hand in his. She was standing close enough for the gesture to pass unnoticed. Her hand was cold and still... or perhaps it was just his hand that kept hers from trembling.

"I want you to find that dagger... you know which dagger I mean, don't you?" Jones asked, tilting his head to the side, his face glistening in the dimly lit corridor.

Jack looked at him unblinkingly, trying to imagine how he could know what had happened on the _Black Pearl_? How could he know about the dagger that could make him immortal again. How could he know... about everything.

"I also want to know whom I'll have to stab with it," Davy Jones continued. "Who is that immortal person who brought back all the dead?"

The moment of silence was shorter than a heartbeat and then without looking at each other both Jack and Elizabeth spoke at the same time causing Davy Jones to tilt his head to the side with a condescending sneer.

"I think you're lying," he said in a low voice.

"You're right."

Jones' gaze darted from Jack and Elizabeth to where the voice came from.

Jack and Elizabeth stared at Teague, stunned by his sudden appearance.

"They aren't immortal," Teague said, coming closer in slow, heavy steps, his face unreadable, as always, although Elizabeth noticed that there was also a glint of mischief in his eyes that looked soothingly familiar because she often saw it in Jack's eyes. But before she had the time to start wondering what Teague was going to do he made the most unexpected admittance: "I am."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :) & for all the beautiful Birthday wishes ^^

Now let's move on to the less fun part of the A/N lol I really (or perhaps naively) hoped it wouldn't have to happen, however, the story is getting longer than I expected & this makes putting it on hiatus inevitable... RL intervenes ;) I hope we'll be back on track with the updates in a couple of months. As for now, think about this story as a TV show & about the next chapter (chapter 17) as the last episode of the season! lol I'm sorry about the inconvenience & I hope you'll be here to continue reading the story in the fall :)

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 16**

"_A coward and a murderer. One doesn't even need to have a heart to sympathize with the poor child for having such parents."_

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands trying to wipe Davy Jones' malicious sneer off her memory. A thunder growled somewhere in the distance, and she felt as if they were being chased by a storm.

She was sitting on the steps below deck - just like all those years ago on their voyage back from the Locker, and the sudden realization washed over her like a cold wave. There were memories that would always taste bitter.

Sliding her hands off her face, she propped her head on her elbows and fixed her gaze on the dark wall in front of her.

She remembered Jack proposing to throw the crib overboard because she had been carrying Blaxton in her arms for hours, no matter if he had been awake or asleep, no matter how tired she had felt, no matter how her back had hurt.

First smiles, first steps, first words, first bruises... Oceans of laughter and mountains of care. A handful of cruel stories could not possibly erase thousands of hours, she knew that.

But it hurt so much to think that their fragile monuments had been ruined and that in their son's eyes they would never look the same again. It felt good to be perfect in somebody's eyes, and she wished it could have stayed that way... for a bit longer... at least...

Especially that despite the questionable truthfulness of facts, despite all the lies involved, those despair-free versions of the stories _were_ true. They became true the moment they weaved them – together.

Elizabeth brushed the tears off her cheeks with her fists and closed her eyes with a stifled sob.

* * *

Blaxton stifled a yawn, the back of his head falling against the back of the chair to which he was tied. He grimaced, trying to - once again - fight off sleep. But his eyes were closing on their own accord... his eyelids feeling so heavy... exhaustion pulling him into the sea blue sleep that was engulfing him in twirling torrents, carrying him away from the reality and making him oblivious to a crew member untying him from the chair, shooting Davy Jones a condescending glare, and carrying the child back to the brig, as ordered. The parrot followed the suit, screeching somewhere on the edge of his consciousness.

"It's only a child," the pirate muttered angrily, placing Blaxton on the ground, and unwillingly following Jones' instructions to shackle Blaxton's hand to one of the bars to prevent him from _vanishing_ from the brig again.

"And you're only a worthless scallywag I can easily replace," Davy Jones hissed.

The pirate glared at him and was about to retort when his eyes suddenly widened at the sight of Teague sitting on the floor in the cell opposite to the one in which Blaxton was.

Having noticed the pirate's gaze, Davy Jones snorted dryly and turned toward Teague's cell. "Did I fail to mention your _captain_ is here as well?"

* * *

"Captain Teague is immortal?" Christelle asked in a hesitant voice, blinking.

Celeste glanced at Christelle and then looked back at Jack, her face so perfectly unreadable that James would have doubted if she was listening to the conversation at all if it had not been for her eyes shifting between whoever was speaking.

"No, he isn't," Jack said, pouting inwardly at Elizabeth leaving to him the troublesome task of informing everyone of what had happened and what exactly was going on. "Blaxton is," he added quietly, receiving a collection of stunned looks in response.

"Blaxton is immortal?" Celeste echoed looking at Jack with raised eyebrows.

Governor Swann rubbed his forehead beginning to feel a headache pulsate in his head. There was just no end to this madness and not for the first time it crossed his mind that perhaps he was still dead, only imagining being brought back to life as well as everything else...

With a sigh, he shifted his eyes to Jack.

...although it was highly unlikely that his imagination, even distorted by death, could possibly conjure up the idea of Elizabeth being married to Jack Sparrow.

Jack winced, glancing between Celeste and Christelle, and somehow doubting his ability to recount that particular story to them. "A few years ago we happened to come across the Fountain of Youth," he said with a cautious smile that did not reach his eyes.

"You're all immortal?" Governor Swann blurted out, his eyes widening.

James squinted, watching Jack shake his head in mute denial. "The problem with the Fountain of Youth is that you can't just drink from it yourself. Somebody has to hand you the drink, and unfortunately the person who serves you the drink... dies," Jack said, uttering each sentence with great reluctance, deciding to leave out the fact that every one hundred years only three people could drink from the Fountain... Too many details could only complicate the discussion and he was anxious to finish it as quickly as possible to go check on Elizabeth.

"Who gave Blaxton the drink?" Celeste asked matter-of-factly, causing Jack to shoot her an unhappy look. "I'm curious," she shrugged.

"As we all are," Weatherby joined in, exchanging a look with his wife who looked equally distressed.

"It's a long story," Jack said, hoping to avoid talking about Elizabeth tricking Barbossa into giving Blaxton the drink as he was sure it would only provoke more questions and ultimately lead to him recounting the full story, and in his mind's eye he could already see the look on Governor Swann's face when he would start telling them about Elizabeth losing her memory in an accident and him pretending to be a stranger-

James snorted under his breath shaking Jack out of his reverie. "Perhaps a _true_ version would be conveniently shorter?"

"I think the present is more important than the past right now," Jack said, squinting. "Jones wants us to find the dagger with which he plans to stab the immortal to become immortal. The reason why Blaxton is still on board the _Gold Teliza_ is that Jones wouldn't feel comfortable with only immortal Captain Teague aboard, and having Blaxton there is supposed to keep his supposedly immortal hostage from undertaking any rash actions... as well as make us actually search for the dagger," he added with a twitch of his nose, producing a piece of paper out of his pocket and looking at it with his eyebrows furrowed.

James rose to his feet. "May I see this?" he asked, taking a few steps toward Jack and extending his hand to him.

Celeste tilted her head to the side, watching his face.

Jack hesitated for a moment before handing him the drawing.

"It doesn't look particularly unique. We could just find a similar one," James said, regarding the sketch skeptically.

"If it's so dangerous perhaps it'd be better to find it," Governor Swann said with a hint of resignation in his voice.

"Giving it to Jones once it's found is another matter," Christelle observed with more confidence than she actually felt.

"I have a nagging feeling I've seen this dagger before," Jack muttered with a small frown.

"It's very heroic of your father to put his life at stake," Christelle said, giving Jack a small, reassuring smile, somehow guessing that he must have been worried more than he let on.

His head still bent over the drawing, James' eyes darted to Celeste, his muscles relaxing a bit when she snorted under her breath.

"Technically, he's now comfortably tucked in a cell on his own ship, very likely with a guitar in his arms, while it's us here who have to worry about actually _doing_ something," Celeste said with a wry half-smile that Jack did not consider to be exceptionally sincere.

"I'm sure he meant to help," Christelle offered, noticing a flash of emotion in Celeste's eyes when she looked away – a flash of worry that could be easily mistaken for anger.

"I don't see how it helps anyone that now Mr. Jones has more hostages than he had before," Celeste said through her slightly clenched teeth, looking away. "He just did that to manifest his unappreciated greatness," she said more to herself than to anybody else, her tone laced with irritation. "Or quite simply, he just walked away. As always. That's what he always did. I was talking, shouting, screaming, and he would just _look_," she stressed the word, widening her eyes into the distance, not looking at anyone. Jack opened his mouth to interrupt her but she continued, "to show that he was above all of that and that explaining his actions, his motifs to minor creatures – meaning all other people in the world - wouldn't make any sense because a person who could understand him didn't exist and there was no one who could possibly-"

"Mum," Jack cautiously cut in, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced at Governor Swann noticing the uncomfortable look on his face. The Governor shifted in his seat, apparently considering the conversation taking a decidedly too intimate turn.

Christelle bit her lip, saddened by Celeste's reaction, sensing pain behind her every word, doubting if there was anything that could be done about that.

James folded the drawing and placed it on the table. Jack glanced up at him in a casual manner but then looked at him again, puzzled by the expression on his face. James slumped down in a nearby chair, propped his chin with his hand and stared at the window.

Jack watched him for a moment before turning his eyes to his mother. To his surprise, he noticed that his mother was looking at James Norrington as well, and a shadow of trepidation in his mother's eyes sent cold shivers up his spine. He blinked a few times, and then decided that having such bizarre, absurd and absolutely ridiculous thoughts could only mean that he was very tired and that it was high time to leave the gathering for now.

* * *

It was out of the question that secret passages were as important as secret hiding places where one could keep a guitar in case of being stuck in one's own brig.

In his cell, Teague was sitting on the floor, a guitar in his arms, his hand brushing quiet chords over the strings.

In the opposite cell Blaxton was still fast asleep, and only a parrot seemed genuinely interested in the sounds made by the guitar because it welcomed every note with a flap of its wings.

Or perhaps the parrot just shuddered at every chord, Teague thought with a ghost of a smile, imagining that it was something Celeste would have probably suggested.

He leaned his head against the wall and stared into the empty air, watching images float in front of his eyes, scrapes of memories, bright, violet eyes in the pale moonlight...

His hand froze above the strings, the weight of regrets falling over his shoulders like a heavy coat he had never worn before.

She had been a part of his world. It had not been enough for her... but for him, it had been everything. He had refused to become a part of her world allowing her only to become – from time to time – a part of his.

But what she would never know was that he had refused eternity for her touch. He had traded immortality for the miracle of knowing that she was within reach. Even when it had seemed he had not cared where she was, he had known they were both in the same world, and the certainty was enough. It was something he did not think she would understand... nor cared to understand, so he had never tried explaining that to her. He knew she wanted endlessness of tomorrows while he appreciated incidentality of todays. She wanted all of his thoughts and he could merely share their shadows with her.

He could not have given her eternity even though he had given up eternity for her.

He closed his eyes. Years ago, he had refused to become the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_; a selfish decision, as he had later realized, a decision for which many people had paid with their souls.

He watched Davy Jones sizzling rage with silent compassion. A man scorned by a woman scorned. A vicious circle of disappointments.

He wondered if he was the disappointed one now, the bitter taste of rejection fighting hope ignited by memories.

"Grandpa?" Blaxton's voice shook Teague out of his reverie, a small smile creeping onto his face. Blaxton rubbed his eyes, trying to sit up, shooting his shackled wrist first a baffled then an annoyed look.

"Aye," Teague said in a low voice, watching Blaxton trying to slide his hand out of the shackles.

"Are you a hostage too?" Blaxton asked, dropping his hand in resignation, pulling the chain with his other hand.

"Kidnap and rrrravage," the parrot cut in, landing on Blaxton's shoulder.

"Are you a hostage?" Teague asked, faint amusement glimmering in his eyes.

Blaxton hesitated. "I don't know," he shrugged, focusing his attention on Teague, shreds of a conversation drifting to him, bringing back the stories, the versions of stories told by Davy Jones.

"_Your father left your mother to die. A coward that he is. And she killed him in return, shackled him to the mast, watched him drown on board his beloved ship so she could escape and marry another."_

"What did he tell you?" Teague asked, noticing a thoughtful expression on Blaxton's face.

"Nothing," Blaxton said with a shrug.

Teague raised his eyebrows.

"Mum says that if somebody lies it's like they don't say anything at all," Blaxton explained, thrusting up his chin with a glimpse of stubbornness in his eyes that made Teague smile if only inwardly.

"Well said," Teague said in a low voice.

"He doesn't like Mum and Dad," Blaxton said after a pause, pursing his lips. "Maybe it's because he doesn't have a heart," he added, giving Teague a questioning look, hoping he would have something to say on the subject. "We're going to escape, right?" he exclaimed, distracted by a new train of thought.

Teague tilted his head to the side. "We're going to negotiate."

A myriad of different expressions passed across Blaxton's face. "Can we negotiate with somebody who doesn't have a heart?" he asked uncertainly, bothered by the entire concept the more he thought about it.

"We're not going to negotiate with Jones," Teague said, looking away with his eyes narrowed. Blaxton straightened up, blinking. "We're going to negotiate with Calypso."

* * *

"I've searched the entire ship for you, love."

Elizabeth drowsily straightened up, suddenly wondering for how long she had been sitting here in the semi darkness alone with her thoughts.

Jack sat down on the steps next to her, looking at her searchingly.

She was staring into the distance with glassy eyes."What does he think of me now, Jack?" she asked in a hollow voice.

Jack turned toward her more, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "What makes you think he'll believe in what Jones tells him?"

Elizabeth shook her head with a bitter snort. "But he'll ask us about that when he comes back," she said, shifting her eyes to him, and even in the weak light he noticed thin, red circles around her eyes.

He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. "Do you really think he'll rather believe him than us?"

"Jack, we can't lie to him again," Elizabeth said with a grimace, placing her hands over his and slowly sliding them off her face. "In a few years somebody may tell him about that again, and then what? One day he'll be old enough to realize the... the truth. What will he think of me then?" She stood up.

"Lizzie," Jack followed her, grasping her shoulders and turning her around to face him. "We're stronger than this and he's smarter than that. You're the best mother in the Spanish main," he added, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a small smirk.

Elizabeth looked at him, trying to smile. "In the entire ocean," she corrected with a small pout.

Jack's smile broadened. "The entire world," he whispered, bringing his face closer to hers-

The sound of somebody clearing his throat causing him to draw back.

"It's a wonder you still have a nerve to be doing that in such circumstances," James said, stopping half-way down the stairs. Jack narrowed his eyes at him but did not get a chance to speak because James continued. "Mister Ragetti claims he knows who's in the possession of that dagger."

* * *

Because one of his hands was shackled to the bars, Blaxton could only use one of his hands to cover one of his ears. He contemplated pressing his other ear to the wall but then Feather-Holder landed on his shoulder and covered his other ear with its wing, causing Blaxton to laugh and then nod at his Grandpa who waited for that signal.

Despite his ears being covered, Blaxton could still hear the noise caused by the guitar being smashed against the bars, a sword, a pistol, and a collection of keys falling to the ground from the broken instrument.

"Rrrreally bad eggs," the parrot observed, apparently as stunned as Blaxton by the sight.

Teague picked up all the objects and then inserted one of the keys into the lock. To Blaxton's joy, the cell's door was soon pushed open, and Teague proceeded to opening Blaxton's cell as well.

The ship swayed, high waves beginning to crash against the ship's hull with growing force. The storm was brewing and Teague hoped that the weather would prove their best ally.

Blaxton watched with great curiosity Teague bending down, grasping the chain, and to his utter amazement actually breaking it with his bare hands. There was still a handcuff around one of Blaxton's wrists but it was no longer chained to the bars.

"Your grandmother taught me that," Teague said in a low voice. "No chain is stronger than your will," he added with a wink, straightening up.

Blaxton smiled and jumped to his feet, following him out of the brig.

* * *

"Bootstrap," Ragetti said, shifting his eyes between everyone in the cabin. "Bootstrap Bill Turner had a knife like that," he said, pointing to the drawing of the mythical dagger.

"Are you certain?" Elizabeth asked, looking at him expectantly.

Ragetti nodded.

Jack stared at the drawing, a frown on his face deepening. "I knew I've seen it before," he muttered. "He was oddly attached to that dagger," he added after a pause.

"You're oddly attached to your hat," Elizabeth snapped. "It doesn't mean it's magical."

Jack looked at her with a hurt expression on his face. "How do you know?" he pouted.

James rolled his eyes. "Please."

"Do you know where we can find this man?" Celeste asked, shifting her gaze from the drawing to Ragetti.

"Bill Turner is the Captain of the_ Flying Dutchman_," Jack said thoughtfully. "We just need to find a volunteer willing to die at sea and the _Dutchman_ will resurface," he added with an artificial smile, looking directly at James.

"Jack," Celeste said, stifling a chuckle.

"That's the only way?" Governor Swann asked gloomily.

"Wait," Elizabeth silenced everyone, gathering the drawing into her hands and looking at it intently. "I've seen it too."

"Did you see it somewhere else, sweetheart?" Christelle prompted after a moment of silence.

"He gave it away," Elizabeth said, biting her lip, and glancing up at Jack who wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Bill gave it away. He gave it to Will."

"That's right!" Pintel suddenly cut in. "I saw it too," he said, elbowing Ragetti who confirmed with nod, recalling the night at Tia Dalma's shack.

Jack winced but then smiled. "I second Commodore Norrington's earlier proposal to just find a similar one!" he said with mock cheerfulness.

"Jack," Elizabeth gave him a pointed look. "You know we have to find the real one. We need to make sure it never gets in the hands of someone who can cause harm with it."

"It's already in the hands of someone who can cause harm," Jack protested.

"Jack."

"So do you keep in touch with Mr. Turner or do we have to search the entire world in order to find him?" James asked, causing Jack to shoot him another glare. "I'm guessing it's the latter."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :]

I'd like to wish everyone an amazing summer & I'll (hopefully ^^) see you in September! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 17**

Elizabeth looked up at the black sails that seemed to scream every time sheets of tempestuous rain crashed against them. The storm was deafening; drops of rain falling over the deck like strings of black pearls, the sound so familiar, yet not soothing, this time hardly beautiful at all.

She shouted the orders, trying to see through the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of the _Gold Teliza _but to no avail. The night was too dark and lightnings only from time to time illuminated the torrents of rain, setting the black drops on faint, silver fire.

She adjusted her hands around the spokes, and shivered suddenly feeling Jack's hands over hers, his lips brushing across her cheek before moving up to her ear and whispering a few reassuring words that had little to do with the storm.

It was not possible to think about anything else and she glanced at him over her shoulder, locks of damp her sticking to her face like paths of tears he knew were somewhere underneath the rain, mixed with the sea water and the wind. He brushed one of the locks off her cheek, rain dripping from his fingers and rings.

They stood together at the helm, hands intertwined, and she smiled brokenly when he pressed his cheek to hers.

"I love you," she whispered, staring straight ahead, the words getting lost between series of thunders but he heard them nonetheless. Gathering her into his arms he mouthed the same words against her lips, turning the last word into a kiss.

A stunned scream broke the roaring silence of the waves, drawing their attention to the crowd gathered on deck, a strange collection of coats and hats that would make them smile in less grim circumstances.

Jack squeezed Elizabeth's hand and sprinted down the steps, frowning at the scene before him, trying to decide if he should say anything or just start pushing everyone back below... except for his mother, perhaps, as there was never much point in arguing with her.

"It's not safe here!" Jack bellowed above the storm, catching Christelle when she almost tripped on the wet floorboards, her husband gripping her other arm just in time as well.

She regained her balance and Jack noticed an all too familiar trace of indignation running across her face. "We'll be alright," she said, her voice still gentle.

"We thought every pair of hands might be needed," Governor Swann replied in a determined voice, the black coat that Jack recognized as one of his own making him look almost like a pirate, although the expression on his face rather weakened the impression.

Jack blinked the rain out of his eyes, not sure what to say if he wanted to avoid saying something that might offend the Governor's fortitude. He glanced at Elizabeth's mother who did not look frightened but fascinated, and Jack was not sure which attitude was actually going to prove less helpful at the moment.

"As thoroughly thoughtful as it is of you, our peace of mind would be at least partly restored if you went back below," Jack risked a suggestion.

"We have endured storms before," Governor Swann protested.

"_Enduring_ storms is always easier below," Jack offered with a twitch of his nose, glancing around to locate his mother who, as he suddenly noticed, must have slipped away from the group during the conversation.

"What can we do?" Christelle asked, and Jack wondered if they both had even heard what he had said.

Before Jack managed to repeat his former request for them to deliver themselves to safety rather than do anything else, a wave crashed against the hull falling angrily over the deck. Subconsciously, Jack reached out to help Elizabeth's mother to keep her balance but the wave was too strong, nearly tearing them both off the deck.

The Governor leaped forward but it was too late, and with a piercing scream muffled by the storm Christelle fell overboard.

Hoping that Elizabeth had not seen what had happened, Jack dived into the sea, Cotton and Ragetti already preparing the lines to hoist them back on board.

As soon as Jack hit the surface he felt a splash near him and to his dismay he noticed Governor Swann next to him. It was impossible to determine if he had jumped by himself or had been swept into the ocean by another wave but either way, luckily, he seemed quite capable of keeping his head above the churning water.

Fighting the overpowering, blinding attacks of the waves, Jack was relieved to finally spot Christelle a few feet away. He swam toward her, hoping that the Governor would take care of himself until being hauled back onto the _Black Pearl_. He could hear voices of the crew above blending with the howling wind.

* * *

By the time James made his way to Celeste, he thought better of offering to take her below. She seemed to know what she was doing even though he had remembered her telling him that she had little experience being on a ship.

Without a word, he reached out to help her with the line she was holding in her hands. She looked over her shoulder to see who it was that decided to assist her and for a moment that to James seemed slightly longer that it ought to be in such circumstances, they locked eyes.

"It's getting worse," James said, a thunder drawing his attention back to the sky.

She laughed. "Are the storms ever getting better?"

"It depends on a storm," he answered too swiftly and seemed caught off by his own answer.

Celeste smiled, her eyes acquiring a glimmer of amusement that, as he suddenly realized, had already become bewitchingly familiar.

Rain was pouring down in torrents and for once he could not properly hear his own thoughts. His mind was unable to analyze anything, and he could only do two things: one that he was well used to doing, just fighting the storm, standing up to the sea... or the other, the one that he could barely imagine, the one that was strong and ethereal, and it had never crossed his mind to do it before... act on an impulse... Shreds of an overheard conversation drifted to him from the past. A selfish impulse?... if he remembered correctly... the words had left him embittered when he had heard them but they appeared to start making sense now... A selfish impulse. But the trouble was that it was not really selfish, was it? It did not seem to be selfish but rather dangerously devoid of anything that could be planned or controlled...

He had an impression that everything he was thinking was enclosed in a single thought, single impulse that ran through him like a newly conjured up dream.

Celeste looked at him, and when a wave crashed against the side of the ship she thought he just wished to steady her so she would not fall but then she felt his hands slide up her arms and her eyes fluttered shut the moment his lips touched hers.

* * *

"What is it that you think you're doing?" Davy Jones hissed suddenly emerging from the amorphous, rain-soaked shadows in front of Teague and Blaxton.

Teague straightened up, and Blaxton quickly caught up with him, making sure that he was standing right next to his grandpa, and not a step or two behind.

They were soaked to the skin and Blaxton could hardly see anything but he kept brushing the rain off his face with his hands to see as much as possible. He looked around, marveling at the greatest storm he had ever witnessed. During such violent storms he had usually had to remain below as a result of a rare unity of opinions represented by both of his parents.

A clash of swords drew Blaxton's attention to the current situation and he watched Davy Jones angrily fighting off Teague's attempts to knock his sword out of his hand.

Bothered by the fact of being (perhaps except for his bravery) weaponless, Blaxton tried to figure out what he could do to help his grandpa. Unable to think of anything better to do, he scurried toward Davy Jones, planning on averting his attention from Teague.

Davy Jones lunged forward, his sword swishing next to Teague's head, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Teague struck back, his sword slicing off several tentacles that landed at Blaxton's feet. Jones' head jerked into this direction and only then he noticed Blaxton standing very close to him.

With a muffled snort, he grabbed the child and pressed the sword against his throat, turning toward Teague with a mockingly questioning look on his face.

It must have been the smallest glimpse of hesitation that flashed in Teague's eyes or maybe just an abstract thought that suddenly made the realization dawn on Davy Jones, making him glance at Blaxton and then narrow his eyes at Teague.

"It's not you who is immortal," he whispered to himself but his train of thought was interrupted by the ship violently rocking to one side, sending everyone to the deck.

Blaxton tried to jump to his feet but another wave came, making not only standing up impossible but actually causing him to slide all the way toward the rail.

Holding onto it, he tried to pull himself upward but he suddenly noticed a wall of sea water towering above him and before he let go of a breath he was holding the water fell over him, sweeping him off his feet and into the dark ocean.

* * *

Jack looked toward the _Black Pearl_, the distance between him, Christelle, Weatherby and the ship growing greater every second. It was to be expected, however, he had an unsettling feeling that the sea was unusually intent on making it impossible for them to return on board.

"We should try getting on board," the Governor choked out, trying to remember when he had learned to swim. It had been such a long time ago that he half-forgotten he actually _had_ learned that. Being in the water felt strange, although he could not quite place the feeling, caught between dismay and delight.

"As soon as we reach the ship," Jack replied with as much encouragement in his voice as he could muster.

"Which ship?" Christelle asked, trying to make her voice audible above the storm, and only then Jack noticed that the waves had carried them very far away from the _Black Pearl_ – but very close to the _Gold Teliza_.

* * *

_Cannon fire!_

The expression floated across James' mind but before he realized where it had come from, the floorboards beneath his feet rattled, and all he managed to do before starting to fall across the darkness was subconsciously clasping Celeste's hand in his.

He could not make out the voice but he was certain that somebody screamed and then he felt himself collide with the water surface. He concentrated all of his will power and strength on not letting go, not letting go of her hand, no matter what.

When he resurfaced, he could still feel her hand in his but when he opened his eyes his breath caught at the expression on her face.

"Celeste, are you alright?" he breathed, securing his arm around her.

To his relief - and constant surprise - she smiled. "Do I still have both arms?" she asked, and after a brief moment of confusion he realized that his grip on her hand must have hurt her but before he had time to formulate an apology they heard and saw another cannon ball hit the _Pearl_ and smash one of the masts.

* * *

The sound of the cannon fire brought Teague back to consciousness. He pulled himself to a sitting position, giving a pool of blood around him a patronizing look before staggering to his feet.

He made a few, unsteady steps but having apparently underestimated his injury he lost his balance as soon as the ship was tossed to the side, and with a mute thud he collapsed to the deck, black waves dragging him into the sea.

* * *

All of a sudden the ship became silent.

There were still voices she could hear, there were still people whose silhouettes she could see, and the storm was still overwhelmingly loud but to her everything seemed silent, all of a sudden.

Trying to steer the _Black Pearl_ away from the cannon fire, Elizabeth tried to imagine why Jones was trying to destroy their ship if he wanted them to find the dagger? It did not make sense although perhaps she should have learned long ago not to expect that.

* * *

Searching the ship turned out to be more difficult than climbing aboard.

Jack ran below, wondering where everybody was, hoping that Christelle and Weatherby had found Blaxton or Teague... or both of them, preferably.

The cannons fell silent and he stopped in his tracks but the sound of footsteps in the distance did not seem to belong to Jones.

He turned around the corner and with some relief acknowledged Teague's first mate making his way across the corridor.

Unfortunately, the news written on the man's face seemed to be far from reassuring.

* * *

It was a strange combination of her violet eyes and the prospect of dying again that finally returned to James his will to live.

He felt that nothing, not even this ravenous storm could take it away from him. He was determined to survive, to live. The sudden certainty was liberating, and he held onto it doing what he could to keep Celeste and himself above the water surface.

* * *

Elizabeth stiffened, hoping that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her but when her eyes darted to one of the spokes she noticed a tentacle wrapped around it, a low chuckle preceding the words spoken in a low, menacing voice:

"Do _you_ fear death?"

* * *

_On the next day..._

The sound of the waves was quiet at first but it grew louder, finally making James to blink his eyes open. His cheek was buried in the sand and it took him a moment to move. He slowly shifted his weight, trying to sit.

Scanning the horizon with his eyes narrowed in a tired frown, he found the light blue sky and the calm sea ahead of him confusing, and only after a few moments memories began to flood back to him.

With a twinge of cold dismay he looked around and nearly smiled at the sight of her. But the sigh of relief froze inside his throat when he realized she was not moving.

He leaped toward her, grains of sand flying into the air as he knelt next to her, gently turning her over.

Her skin was both cold and warm and he was not able to settle on one impression. For a moment he did not know what to do, terrified by the possibility-

But when he leaned down she opened her eyes, and he closed his eyes, sighing with relief.

"Where are we?" Celeste asked in a strained voice and he helped her to sit up. She brought her hand to her head and winced.

James glanced around, the palm trees glittering in the sun. "On an island," he said hesitantly.

"Stranded?" Celeste smiled wearily. "That's quite poetic."

"It's too good to be true," James said with a small snort.

She gave him a questioning look. "Too good?"

"Knowing my luck I'd rather expect being stranded on a deserted island with your son rather than you," he replied, a trace of a smile flitting across his face.

She laughed weakly. "Your luck must have improved, then," she said with a sigh, looking up at the spotless sky.

She waited for him to say something but he was silent and she looked at him again, noticing that his eyes were fixed at some point behind her. Following his gaze she turned around and froze.

Not very far from them one more person was just regaining his consciousness, his face curtained by the dreadlocks and trinkets that he was pushing back over his shoulders with his gnarled fingers.

* * *

Staring intently into his tea cup, Will wondered, with the faintest of sentimental smiles if impersonating a doctor was an act of piracy.

He could really do without getting into more trouble but it seemed that no escape could be perfect, and that there was a price to be paid for every ounce of luck.

"Have you been to the Caribbean before, Doctor Collins?" Mrs. Anderson asked, shaking him out of his reverie.

Will looked up. "I have," he said with a slightly strained smile putting away his tea cup.

It had really been a poorly thought out idea to begin with but now it was too late to clarify the misunderstanding... which he had encouraged. But the port had been empty except for this one ship and he had had to leave England with all haste, so when an overwhelmingly kind couple had assumed him to be a _Doctor Collins_ he had taken his chance of getting on board without any scheming and had confirmed their guess with a smile.

Up to the moment when they had actually left the port he had wondered what would have happened if the real Doctor Collins had shown up but as strangely as luckily he had not, and so Will had let out a small sigh of relief when the land had begun vanishing into the distance, white sails billowing in the wind in an almost gleeful manner.

"I would have rather stayed in London," Mr. Anderson said with a small frown that caused his wife to shake her head at him in amiable disapproval.

"My husband does not enjoy traveling, regardless of the distance or the occasion," Mrs. Anderson said with a smile.

"Mama! Papa!" A high-pitched voice broke into the conversation.

Mrs. and Mr.'s Anderson little daughter ran toward them, ribbons in her hair flailing in the air. She stopped next to them, trying to catch her breath, tugging on her mother's sleeve and pointing toward the sea.

"There is- there is-" she stammered, finally drawing a breath deep enough to allow her to finish her sentence. "There is a boy in the water!"


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews & for your patience! :) I have to admit I was contemplating putting this story on a longer hiatus but I guess there is no guarantee I'm going to have more time in the future lol So I decided to continue it but I owe you a fair warning that from now on updates will be _very_ slow ^^

& just a quick reminder of where everyone was by the end of the previous chapter: Jack, Christelle, Weatherby, Teague's crew – on the _Gold Teliza _/ Elizabeth, Davy Jones – on the _Black Pearl _/ Celeste, James, Teague – on an island / Will, Blaxton – on a ship

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 18**

"Love?"

The word floated to her seemingly out of nowhere and Elizabeth froze waiting to hear it again – or waiting for the proof that it was only her tired imagination playing tricks on her.

But the voice proved real enough.

"Lizzie?"

"I'm here!" she called out and hissed in pain giving her wounded foot an angry look. She wondered why it hurt so much.

At first she had not felt anything apart from numb realization that the tip of Davy Jones' blade had sunk into her flesh, first into her arm, then her calf, and finally her foot. It had taken her a moment to realize that she was not defending herself well because she had not wanted to let go of the wheel. She would have rolled her eyes at herself if it was not for the blade to glint right in front of her face giving her just a second to react. The rain had been pouring down in torrents and she could have hardly seen anything except for ominous glimmers of tentacles and a pair of narrowed eyes glistening in the moonlit darkness. She had backed down from the helm drawing out her sword and it was then that one of her feet had begun feeling increasingly heavy and if it was not for a roaring black wave that swept Davy Jones off his feet she might not have survived the next strike of his sword.

"Lizzie." Jack appeared at the top of the stairs, noticing Elizabeth's curled up form at the bottom of them with mixture of relief - and panic caused by the sight of a small pool of blood around her foot and the fabric of her sleeve alarmingly red.

"I'd give you a standing ovation for recognizing me but unfortunately I can't stand," Elizabeth said through her teeth shooting him an irritated look despite being indescribably happy to see him.

Jack quickly ran down the stairs, squatting next to her, his place at the top of the stairs taken over by Elizabeth's parents who had followed Jack despite his suggestion that it would have been better if they had stayed on board the _Gold Teliza_. They had said_ no_ in unison and it had suddenly occurred to Jack that convincing Teague to do something might have been easier than convincing them. With an inward snort he had acknowledged that there was no doubt they were Elizabeth's parents.

"What happened?" Jack asked, examining Elizabeth's foot and scanning all her other injuries with a frown. She must have been stabbed several times and the realization made the blood freeze in his veins.

It seemed there was nobody he could keep safe. His wife, his son, his parents, his ship... Their safety was a matter of chance and if they were well and alive it was only because of fate and not his efforts.

Elizabeth ignored the question. "Did you find Blaxton and Teague?" she asked,wincing and biting her lip to keep from crying out when Jack pulled the boots off her feet. To her own surprise she noticed that her other foot was injured as well although she could not remember the exact moment when it had happened. If Davy Jones had not been torn off the _Pearl_'s deck by tempestuous waves she would have undoubtedly been in a worse condition right now and the thought paradoxically made the pain ebb a bit.

"Your parents are here," Jack said unnecessarily since Elizabeth had already noticed her parents who were now descending the steps.

"Jack."

"Both ships are here and once they are repaired we can search for everyone who is missing," Christelle came to Jack's aid giving Elizabeth a slightly strained, reassuring smile and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"And that man has probably drown so-" Governor Swann stopped in mid-sentence receiving a meaningful look from his wife, in a blink realizing that assuming Davy Jones to be dead equaled assuming everyone else who had been swept overboard dead as well.

"We'll find them. You know Blaxton must be alright, and as for Teague I wouldn't hope for the world to be ridden of him so easily," Jack said with a hint of forced humor in his voice, sliding his hands underneath Elizabeth to lift her off the ground.

She was not happy with his answers but seemed too exhausted to argue and just held onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He almost shuddered at how warm her skin was. Darting his eyes to her face he quickly brushed her cheeks with the back of his hand and then touched her forehead.

"You were tossed down here by the sea, weren't you?" he asked, rising to his feet with her in his arms.

"Did you think I'd run away from the helm to hide here?" she muttered against his neck. "These are shallow."

"You have a fever and so many scars-to-be that you should have," Jack retorted, heading for the Captain's Quarters, Elizabeth's parents following in his wake. "Shallow," he snorted under his breath.

"There was nobody else to take the helm," Elizabeth said but then trailed off and added in a softer voice. "James and... your mother were swept overboard."

Jack did not look at her but she could feel his embrace tighten around her. "There are many small islands around here and I'm sure my mother will have enough luck to reach one of them. Family trait. She's a good swimmer. I can't say what may become of our dear Admiral, though."

"I believe he's a good swimmer too," the Governor observed dryly, however, there was a new color to his voice that nearly made Jack turn around to look at him but he did not do it in order not to disturb Elizabeth who rested her cheek against his chin.

He felt that something had changed in Elizabeth's father's attitude toward him after he had dived into the sea to rescue Christelle... Perhaps it was a case of _second_ time's a charm or perhaps the circumstances were just very different, and the Governor's prejudices faded along with his ideals.

"Let us hope Davy Jones doesn't know how to swim," Jack said with a lop-sided smile, kicking the door to the Captain's Quarters open.

"Jack, this isn't funny," Elizabeth said, opening her eyes that she had kept closed for the last few moments and suddenly noticing that one of the Jack's shirt sleeves was soaked with blood. "Are you hurt?"

"I am!" he confirmed immediately. "Your lack of appreciation for my sense of humor always hurts my feelings, love."

"Wretch," Elizabeth said with a sigh, the pain suddenly increasing, making it difficult to think.

"It means 'I'm sorry' in Scottish," Jack said, turning toward Weatherby and Christelle for a second before disappearing in the adjacent cabin where he gently placed Elizabeth on the bed.

Elizabeth's mother glanced at Governor Swann who rolled his eyes but in such a way that brought a small smile to Christelle's face.

"I think we should do something useful. See who else is aboard, perhaps?" she proposed, lacing her hand through her husband's arm and pulling the Governor with her toward the door despite his nearly appalled expression at the idea of leaving Elizabeth's side right now.

"I'm not sure-" he tried to protest but before he knew it they were out of the cabin.

* * *

No words could describe Will's joy over the fact that Blaxton opened his eyes soon after he had been brought on board.

With an inward sigh of relief, Will cleared his throat and smiled as authoritatively as he could, asking Mr. and Mrs. Anderson and their little daughter, who seemed extremely proud of being the one who had spotted the boy in the water, to leave the cabin and let him examine the child's condition in peace.

When Will closed the door behind them, his reassuring smile turned into a worried frown. He stepped toward the bed, eyeing the little boy uncertainly, hoping that the child would feel well enough not to require any professional medical assistance.

Blaxton slowly pulled himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes and looking around the unfamiliar cabin with a small pout.

"Are you alright?" Will asked with an encouraging smile, and only then Blaxton noticed him.

He straightened up trying to remember where he was and what had happened, a whirlwind of evens spinning in his head... his parents, his grandparents, the storm, Davy Jones, _"your father left your mother to die"_, rain and splintering wood, _"your mother killed your father"_, waves and blood, everything blending into a series of terrifying, nearly incomprehensible images.

Will's face fell a bit. "How do you feel?" he asked again, his throat tightening as he began an inward rehearsal of admitting that he was not a doctor, the shocked faces of everyone on board making him feel rather unwell himself. "Do you remember how you got here?" He sat on a nearby chair, looking at the boy expectantly.

Blaxton blinked and then narrowed his eyes in such a way that it sent cold shivers up Will's spine.

"I fell overboard," Blaxton said, giving Will an assessing look, suddenly remembering what he was usually so prone to forgetting: that in the presence of strangers he should not mention the _Black Pearl_ or the fact of being a pirate.

Will smiled. "I figured that much. But... you feel well?" he could not help asking once again to make his conscience – and his nerves – calm down.

Blaxton nodded a bit absently, a sad expression creeping onto his face as he remembered losing Grandpa Teague from view, his head disappearing among the waves.

"Where are your parents?"

The question recaptured Blaxton's attention and he looked at Will, a shadow of hesitation passing across his face.

Will wrinkled his forehead, inwardly scolding himself for asking such a tactless question so soon. He himself of all people should know-

"On..." Blaxton drew a quick breath. "I don't remember the name but she's a merchant ship," he said with such conviction in his voice that the answer seemed more than a little suspicious.

"I see," Will said after a pause, shaking off the ridiculous impression that kept flashing across his mind.

Blaxton held his gaze, quite proud that he had managed to say what he had been taught to say in such circumstances, even though he disliked the idea of pretending not to be a pirate and not mentioning the _Black Pearl_.

"My parents are merchant sailors," he added.

Although of course not mentioning the _Pearl_ and claiming not being a pirate was a part of being a pirate, so essentially there was not much wrong with it.

Will seemed amused. "Both of them?" he inquired in a calm voice, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye," Blaxton went for a simple answer, confused by the question, wondering if he had said something wrong. He was quite certain he was supposed to say that his parents were merchants.

Will blinked. "What's your name?" he asked in a lower voice hoping that the answer to this question would wipe all bizarre thoughts off his mind.

Blaxton almost smiled at the question, absolutely certain that he remembered the answer to this particular question well. "John Smith," he said a bit too joyfully.

For a moment Will regarded Blaxton in silence. "Good, strong name," he said at last, shaking Blaxton's hand, a strangely sad smile flickering across his face. "And I'm... Doctor John Collins."

* * *

Watching carefully Teague's sluggish movements, James wondered if the man was covering exhaustion with nonchalance or was simply enjoying the sizzling impatience in Celeste's eyes.

"I believe it's ready," Teague said, poking the roasted fish.

James brushed some ashes off his clothes with the back of his hand.

"I'm not hungry," Celeste snapped, staring at the fish. "We should build a boat. Can we build a boat?" she asked in the same annoyed tone turning to James.

"We could," James said, regarding the trees behind her, feeling Teague's gaze settle on him with lukewarm interest.

"That's what we should do, then," Celeste said, preparing to stand.

"Have you eaten anything at all?" The question rolled off Teague's tongue in blank manner.

She had an impression that he wanted to add _since your return_ but it must have been either the disturbing concept of her death or rather her return that stopped him from saying the words out loud. "You wouldn't know either way," she said without looking at him, rising from the sand.

James rose as well and waited, following her with his eyes until she walked away a few feet. Only then he sat down again. He thought about going after her but decided it was not the best moment considering her mood – and Captain Teague's intimidatingly mind-reading gaze that suddenly made him feel very sympathetic toward Jack Sparrow.

"I have a knife," Teague said conversationally.

James raised his eyebrows. "Beg pardon?"

Teague pulled a knife out of his pocket. "It might be difficult, building a boat without a knife."

James looked at him, trying to determine whether he was the one reading more meaning into the words. "A knife may be of great assistance indeed," he observed with calm indifference and shifted his eyes to the fire before making up his mind and rising to his feet. "I'll search for the right trees."

Teague's face was frighteningly unreadable despite myriads of memories ingrained in every line crisscrossing his face. Without a word, he handed the knife to James, blade first, but then he flipped it, closing the blade in his hand.

James hesitated for a split second but then took the knife in a well-learned decisive gesture.

When he was about to turn around Teague said in the same blank tone as before: "I have a pistol too." There was a glimmer in the man's eyes that could mean anything from light humor to murderous intentions.

It was at moments like this when James wished he possessed a talent for witty retorts. "I'll keep that in mind," he said wryly, turning to walk away. "Although," he stopped and added with a thin smile. "Powder is probably wet."

* * *

"Does it hurt?" Jack asked with a frown shooting Elizabeth a worried look.

"No, I just enjoy wincing," she snapped under her breath, watching Jack treat her injured arm that hurt more than she thought it should.

"Don't move, love," Jack said, gently pushing her head onto the pillow that he had placed behind her head.

Elizabeth rested her cheek against the pillow with a sigh. "I could do it myself. We shouldn't be wasting time like that. We should-"

"Both ships need to undergo repairs. We can't do much until then," Jack said, wrapping a piece of cloth around her arm.

Elizabeth watched his dark hands, every inch of his skin so familiar, the movements of his fingers reassuringly predictable.

"How do we find them all?" she asked in a hollow voice.

His hands stopped for a fraction of a second but then continued their work. She looked at his face and only then she noticed a frown that was not a frown of concentration. It was not even a frown of worry. The deep line running across his forehead was deep and unnatural in its motionless grimness.

Despite Jack's protests Elizabeth leaned toward him, and reaching out cupped the side of his face. He seemed startled, as if he had already heard the words she was about to say:

"You don't think it's your fault, do you?"

Not a muscle in his face twitched but he looked at her without saying anything.

"Jack?"

He could not help smiling a little at the hint of irritation in her voice that always reminded him of the first months of their acquaintance when the same hint of irritation reverberated in her voice almost every time she had addressed him.

But then the smile was gone, replaced by a weak grimace of fake amusement. "What isn't my fault, Lizzie? Everywhere you look is my fault. You may blame Davy Jones, the weather or fate but these are only tools. It all amounts to _me_. Half a life of bad choices couldn't evaporate like I thought it did. It's all coming back to me... to _us_ - because of me - now."

Elizabeth's snatched her bandaged arm from Jack's grasp and sat up. He frowned trying to make her lie down again but she swatted at him in annoyance.

"What a nonsense!" she exclaimed, pulling him by the lapels of his shirt to make him sit next to her.

Jack slumped awkwardly onto the bed. "You know very well that it isn't," he said almost sternly, the lack of humor in his eyes making Elizabeth stiffen. Every time Jack was being serious it reminded her of the strange, cold, merciless world that she believed she had left behind. Even on those rare occasion when they would leave Blaxton at the Cove and engage in a battle at sea she did not think about that. The clashing of swords, smoke and blood were not enough to make her think of the gray cruelty that was hiding in the shadows beyond her world. It was only through the occasional seriousness in Jack's eyes that she could see the truth from time to time and be reminded that the world consisted of something more than their home with black sails, sunsets in Jack's arms and the sound of Blaxton's brisk footsteps at dawn.

"I can assure you that now it's the least of the least opportune moments to be sulking around like that."

Jack widened his eyes at her. "I was being very covert about my sense of guilt," he said with a small pout.

Elizabeth snorted. "You should see your face in the mirror."

Jack seemed to ponder this and after a moment of consideration began rising to his feet but Elizabeth pulled him back down rolling her eyes at him.

"It's not your fault," she said in the same manner but there was a soft glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him, sliding an open palm onto his shoulder. "You know I'd tell you if I thought it was your fault," she added, squinting.

But Jack did not even have the time to smile because they suddenly heard a collection of raised voices joined by the sounds of countless pairs of boots running heavily across the deck above them.

Then, the door to their cabin burst open and several soldiers in red coats broke into the cabin, pointing their muskets at them.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 19**

"I don't want to!" Celeste shouted but her irritation faded at the sight of an amused smile flitting across James' face. "I'm sorry. I'm doing exactly what I was always teaching my son not to be doing," she added with a small sigh, and looked away, leaning against a palm tree. "Being angry with one person but screaming at another." She bit her lip squinting into the distance.

"Anger is also an emotion," James said a bit grimly, straightening up and clasping his hands behind his back.

Celeste shifted her eyes to him. "Negative emotions are only remnants of positive emotions. They are very, very weak," she said, holding his gaze. "Do you always resort to seriousness when you want to keep your emotions clandestine?" she asked with a small smile, looking him up and down in a manner that he found utterly intimidating – and at the same time quite thrilling.

"The world would be a lovely place if you were right," he said unclasping his hands and then clasping them again, for a moment hesitating if he should comment on her question.

"I am right," she retorted, glancing at him with a glimmer of humor in her eyes that quickly faded. He was relieved that she did not give him a chance to answer her question but the look in her eyes saddened him. "I'm always right," she added under her breath, absently scratching the palm tree with her fingernails. "But seemingly unable to take advantage of the fact."

He started walking toward her but stopped when she abruptly turned around. "I don't know what I feel. I'm not sure what happened yesterday because I'm not sure what yesterday _means_. I don't even know how old I am," she added with a humorless half-laugh. "My little son is older than me," she said with a smile that turned into a thoughtful frown.

"But you know _who_ you are."

She did not look at him, contemplating the overwhelming calmness of his voice. "How do you know?" she asked in a hollow voice.

She heard him take a few steps toward her and then stop very near, his tall figure curiously overshadowing the sun without taking away its warmth.

"I see it in your eyes," he said in a low, slightly strained voice. His thoughts spoken out loud sounded strange to him, as if they were not meant to be spoken out loud or perhaps he was just not used to saying such things. He looked at her but she was still squinting into the distance so he added. "You have beautiful eyes, Celeste."

Her shoulder brushed against his when she turned around and he used all of his willpower to stop himself from politely stepping back to give her more space.

She smiled, her violet eyes sparkling with amusement that had terrified him before but now made him wish it would last forever.

"That's very kind of you to notice," she said smilingly. "Do you want to know what I see in your eyes?" she asked after a pause.

He leaned toward her, surprising her by tucking her hair behind her ear. She held her breath.

"What do you see?" he prompted in a low voice, mesmerized by the way she looked at him, as if she sincerely wanted to know what he was thinking. He was quite sure he had never known anybody who would have been interested in reading his personal thoughts.

"Tranquility," she whispered. "Endless turquoise oceans of tranquility." There was a hint of sadness to her voice but a broken smile was brushed off her lips before it had a chance to appear.

It was so quiet around them and she could feel the sun rays dancing across her skin. There was no storm, no torrents of rain, nothing that could make it seem like it was unreal. His gentleness was unfamiliar, like a warm breeze after centuries of tornadoes.

It was new and so alluring, being held in an embrace that was strong – but not stronger than she.

He drew her closer and kissed her again, his heartbeat louder than any words he had ever uttered.

* * *

Despite Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's best efforts Blaxton did not tell them much about his family and they were sincerely worried that it might be quite difficult to find his parents who were probably mad from worry – or even grief, perhaps even believing their child to be dead.

It was truly a miracle that he was alive. They were doing what they could to cheer little John Smith up but he, understandably, seemed too gloomy to care.

"What if he's not telling the truth?" Mrs. Anderson whispered to her husband watching the child from the distance.

Blaxton was staring out at the sea, his chin resting on the rail.

Mr. Anderson blinked. "What do you mean, Anabelle?"

"What if something terrible happened? What if he didn't just fall overboard during a storm? What if he saw... something horrible happen to his parents!..." Mrs. Anderson stifled a sob caused by her terrifying suspicions.

Her husband looked nonplussed. "Something horrible?"

Mrs. Anderson gave Mr. Anderson an impatient look. "Pirates. What else? Several years ago they buried down our future residence. Do you think they couldn't set a ship on fire? They do it all the time!" Before her husband had a chance to express his opinion Mrs. Anderson waved her hand at Will who had just emerged from below. "Doctor Collins!"

Will smiled as sincerely as he could, hoping that he would manage to excuse himself fairly quickly. He walked toward them, glancing sympathetically at the little boy who was standing near the rail.

He remembered the first afternoon of his new life after he had been rescued. Long sun rays on the wooden deck, a freckled girl prattling about pirates in the sweetest voice he had ever heard, making him forget the dull pain pulsating in his head every time he had recalled losing the only thing he had left of either of his parents...

The memory of the medallion made him check on his father's dagger safely tucked in his pocket.

"Doctor Collins, what do you make of this situation?" Mrs. Anderson asked, meaningfully looking at Blaxton over Will's shoulder.

"I don't know," Will answered truthfully.

"My husband and I think that the ship on which the boy and his parents were was attacked by pirates!..." Mrs. Anderson said in a conspirational tone.

"Do not include me in your creatively drawn conclusions, my dear," Mr. Anderson said with a sigh.

"Everything is possible," Will observed diplomatically, glancing at Blaxton and little Miss Anderson who had just marched toward him with a haughty look on her face.

"Well, if his parents are dead I consider it our duty to take care of the boy," Mrs. Anderson said firmly, and despite her husband's visible discontentment continued. "We'll take him with us to Port Royal."

"Port Royal?" Will repeated almost mechanically, caught off guard by the two words he had not heard in so long.

Port Royal. It hardly meant home. It was more like a dream, a distant bell of hope that had accompanied him for many years... more like rain, torrents of rain blurring his vision, sweeping away the future... But the memories seemed drained of colors now – and they hurt very little.

"_At least my conscience will be clear."_

Strangely enough, the name of the town reminded him of this phrase, a mildly amused, bittersweet smile flitting across his face when he suddenly realized that for him it was what Port Royal seemed to mean most: Port Royal was where he had left his clear conscience.

"Yes," Mrs. Anderson said with a small, proud smile hovering over her lips. "My husband has just been appointed the Governor of Port Royal."

* * *

"What's your name?"

The question was asked in such a sharp tone that it startled Blaxton at first. He took a step away from the rail and looked at his new companion a bit absently, engrossed in his thoughts.

Even though he could not quite name the feeling, it was gradually becoming more and more overwhelming. He was surprised by his own lack of interest in his surroundings. What had initially seemed like a great adventure was now making him sad. The word longing had not made its way to his consciousness just yet but he found himself waiting to hear his Mum's or Dad's voice at any moment. In fact, he had thought quite a few times that he had heard their voices already. But apparently it was only his imagination playing tricks on him, and every time he realized that the impression was fake his mood continued to deteriorate.

"It's a very common name," the girl said in response to Blaxton introducing himself as John. "My name is _Lillian_," she said distinctly, looking at Blaxton expectantly but because he did not say anything she added. "It's a very _unique_ name," she said, wrinkling her nose, apparently not very pleased with Blaxton's unresponsiveness. "How old are you?" she asked and then smiled triumphantly at Blaxton's answer that he was six.

"I'm _seven_." Lillian said with a small huff before turning around only to stop abruptly in her tracks a moment later when something colorful flashed right in front of her face causing her to scream and almost trip over her own feet.

To Blaxton's inexplicable joy, Feather-Holder landed on his shoulder.

* * *

Facing one's fears was an essential skill but the conviction did not make him miss the dark rooms of the Cove any less.

Teague closed his eyes trying to imagine the scent of dust instead of the fresh air but his efforts proved futile.

He could stand the sun on board his ship but on land the sunshine was nigh unbearable. It reminded him of the times when he would inwardly approve of his every decision, his every word. The joyous, carefree, merciless times.

"_A witch." He laughed, propping his head on his elbow, his hand reaching out to caress her face but she pushed him away, her eyes wide and serious._

"_You don't believe me?" she asked, and he found the fact that she had made it a question quite touching. A sign of vulnerability. A mistake she would regret._

"_Oh, I do. You're bewitching enough."_

_She slipped out of his embrace, sat upright, so very still, and for a moment he just looked at her profile, her long, black hair falling over her shoulders._

"_I shouldn't have told you," she said quietly with a hint of disbelief in her voice. She shot him a glance, her violet eyes peering at him from under the dark eyelashes. "It's a secret. I haven't told anyone before," she added with some difficulty, still looking at him intently._

_He pulled her back toward him and kissed her. "Does it matter?" he asked between kisses, somehow knowing that the conversation was not over even though he did not really care about it. He was quite certain that after six months he knew everything about her; everything that there was to know. He thought it amusing she still tried to pretend as if she had some secrets to share._

_She looked at him with wonder that he so easily believed to be admiration, no matter as absurd it seemed considering the circumstances. But the circumstances did not matter. She looked at him with admiration – always._

Such an insignificant, fleeting moment... It took him decades to realize that it was the first time he had seen disappointment in her eyes. Disappointment – and hopeless wonder at her own feelings.

Teague slowly outstretched his fingers over the dying fire trying to trace back the strange path of thorns that led from that one, rose-scented day when they had met to the day it all had started falling apart.

* * *

"Jack Sparrow, isn't it?"

"Captain," Elizabeth said with a frown, biting her lip to keep herself from fainting. Her feet and her arm were burning and she felt the fever flow over her in waves that were leaving her nearly breathless.

Jack tried to furtively give her a meaningful look but she was not looking at him, her eyes fixed ahead, her cheeks glowing with fever. He wished he could reach out and touch her hand to remind her that he was near, that she could divide her courage in half and leave half of her burden to be brave to him.

A tall man in the red, immaculate uniform who was standing in front of them shifted his eyes from Jack to Elizabeth. "So it would seem," he said with a strange smile.

"Is there any particular reason why we are being treated that way?" Governor Swann spoke in a loud and slightly irritated voice, trying to sound as authoritatively as possible. After all, he could imagine only too many reasons to arrest Jack- _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. _Or Elizabeth, for that matter_, he admitted to himself reluctantly. However now, he felt obliged to protect them both, no matter what.

Christelle grimaced, her handcuffed wrists beginning to feel sour.

The soldier gave Governor Swann a long look before consulting a piece of paper in his hands. "Your name?"

Weatherby straightened up, his eyes sparkling with indignation. But when he opened his mouth to speak Jack cut him off.

"What are the charges against us?"

The man snorted under his breath. "Apart from piracy?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Elizabeth glared at him, having a strange suspicion that she felt Jack shared that there was something odd about this encounter. "If so, shouldn't we be on our way to prison already?" she asked through her teeth.

The soldier seemed amused. "You're convicted of a serious crime," he said as if it was a good joke. "Crimes against the Crown shall not be treated lightly."

"Sailing on a pirate ship can hardly be considered a crime," Governor Swann said decidedly even though as soon as he had said it he started wondering whether his words actually made sense. But he quickly shrugged off the thought and cleared his throat. "We have a right to demand-"

"I see I am not being specific enough?" The man interrupted him, sitting down in a chair while the four of them were still standing with her hands bound. "Well then," he looked through the papers spread all over the desk, picked a single sheet of paper and rose to his feet. "You are charged with murder," he said in a mockingly solemn voice.

"This is ridiculous!" Christelle blurted out in such an ardent voice that everyone looked at her.

"It is most definitely a mistake," Weatherby joined his wife in her protest. Jack and Elizabeth exchanged a look, quite touched by the unceremoniously overt support expressed by Elizabeth's parents.

"Oh, certainly," the soldier agreed with a small sneer. "Setting a ship on fire after murdering all the people on board, an important official among them can undoubtedly be considered a grave mistake."

Jack's eyebrows knitted in thought.

"We haven't done such a thing," Christelle said.

Elizabeth caught the look in the soldier's eyes and immediately had her suspicion that the statement was as superfluous as useless confirmed.

"When did it happen?" Governor Swann demanded matter-of-factly. "Is there any evidence that... _we_ were there when it happened?" he said, making up for hesitating before saying _we _by stressing the word.

The man narrowed his eyes at them in an unpleasant smile. "You were there when it happened," he said with malicious simplicity.

"What if we would provide the evidence that we were somewhere else?" Christelle asked, thrusting up her chin, and both Jack and Elizabeth blinked wondering if they would be given a chance to speak. "When did it happen?" she repeated the question.

The soldier looked between the four of them, as if he was eyeing the audience before delivering the most important line of the entire play. "It happened..." he trailed off with visible deliberateness and then smiled thinly. "It happened... _tomorrow_."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you so much for all the great reviews! :) I hope everyone had an awesome Halloween! :D

& I'm sorry for not updating in such a long time... I think I warned you that updates would be slow but I feel bad about it anyway ^^ (Even though it's real life's fault, not mine! lol)

**Chapter 20**

Jack gathered Elizabeth into his arms and slowly lowered them both to the floor. He sat down with his back against the cell's wall and with a worried frown brushed a few strands of hair off Elizabeth's face when her head lulled onto his shoulder. He had not seen her in such a state in a long time. Since what had seemed like the end of all serious troubles she had fallen ill only once. He bit back a smile at the memory. He had suggested that a cold bath would have helped in fighting off the fever but Elizabeth's only response was throwing a (the!) candelabra at him. He had then spent the next three days singing to her and when she had gotten better _he_ had fallen ill, and with a very sour throat too.

"I don't feel as bad as I look," Elizabeth said in a low voice, cringing her nose when Jack tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Again.

"All evidence to the contrary, love," Jack muttered, glancing at her wounds which he had not had enough time to treat.

"Have you just suggested that I look bad?" Elizabeth asked in the most naturally annoyed tone she could muster, willing her eyes open.

Jack's mouth twitched. "I wouldn't draw such a harsh conclusion. I merely alluded to you looking slightly fatigued."

She snorted and coughed. "You're jealous because I'm going to have more scars than you."

"Scars?" Governor Swann finally broke into the conversation, turning away from the bars.

Christelle placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly before coming closer to where Jack and Elizabeth were sitting.

"I wasn't serious," Elizabeth said in a louder voice, for her father's sake, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Of course," Weatherby said with a sigh, remembering what Elizabeth had said about arguments between her and Jack, that they were never _really_ arguing. He made a mental note to inquire when, if ever, they _were_ being serious.

"We have to find a way to escape," Christelle cut in to steer the conversation away from the subject.

She took Elizabeth's hand in hers wishing she could do something to make her feel better. Elizabeth smiled, squeezed her mother's hand, and Christelle found herself blinking back the tears. In a brief moment the time flashed backwards and she was holding Elizabeth's hand when she had been five years old. It was the same hand, and the realization was both heartwarming and terrifying. So much time they had lost, so many days... She was grateful for being here, right now, but she suddenly realized that the regret over what she had missed would always accompany her, would always linger somewhere between her lost memories.

"We have to find out what this man is planning," Weatherby said grimly, his eyebrows knitted in thought.

"It's rather easy to guess," Jack blurted out and then glanced at the Governor to see if he did not feel offended.

But Governor Swann did not seem to mind. "What is he planning?" he simply asked.

Elizabeth tilted her head backwards, staring up at Jack with sincere readiness to believe anything he would say. Jack gave her another worried frown for that kind of behavior was always the most dependable sign of her feeling unwell.

"He wants us to be charged with crimes committed by somebody else," Jack said grimly.

"I think we should find a way to escape first," Christelle risked a suggestion. "We'll talk about everything later."

Jack was about to express his wholehearted agreement but the sound of cannons and orders shouted above cut him off.

"If it's the crew putting up a fight I'm going to revise my opinion of them," Jack said, straining his ears.

"I wouldn't count on that," Elizabeth observed in a low voice.

"Me either," Governor Swann said with a sigh. Christelle chuckled.

"I won't beg to differ," Jack muttered with a twitch of his nose.

* * *

"You're _lying_," Lillian pursed her lips, looking between Blaxton and Feather-Holder. "I'll tell mother," she added, turning around and running to where her parents were standing.

Blaxton's joy over the return of the parrot was for a moment disturbed by the accusation, especially that it was alarmingly accurate. The parrot was not, in fact, his. It was his mum's parrot, however, considering the circumstances he thought it would be easier to claim that the parrot was his. What he did not understand was how Lillian could have possibly guessed he was not telling the truth? It troubled him greatly. It also made him think of how mum asked him to always tell only the true stories; it made him think of mum, of mum's voice, mum's smile... He wrinkled his forehead, his eyes drifting to the deck. It was wooden and looked ordinary. Yet, strangely enough, he _felt _it was not the _Black Pearl_'s deck and for the first time it occurred to him how far away – how far away from home he was.

"Is this your parrot?"

Blaxton looked up, his forehead wrinkling even more at hearing the question. He was not sure if he should repeat his former answer or rather tell the truth.

Will gave him an encouraging smile which slightly faded at the parrot suddenly flapping its wings and screeching: "Yo ho!"

"_I was afraid you were a pirate!..."_

"It's difficult to say," Blaxton said after a pause, glancing at the parrot who looked back at him.

Will smiled. "I see," he said, wondering whether it was at all possible. He could not stop thinking about a certain nagging idea that kept coming back to him with new force every time he tried to dismiss it. It was quite ridiculous, really. The world was full of dark-eyed, dark-haired children, therefore the probability that this particular boy-

Will blinked, suddenly noticing a tooth woven into Blaxton's hair with a piece of green threat.

"The more you could tell us about you and your parents the more likely it is we could bring you all back together," Will said gently, hoping that he would find a way to both help the boy and convince himself that he was only imagining the resemblance.

Blaxton's inner battle did not show on his face. He was wondering what would happen if he mentioned the _Black Pearl_?... A part of him hoped it could really make it possible for him to go home but a part of him was determined to keep to the Code and keep his name and true identity secret.

"Are your parents alright?" Will asked in a strangely hollow voice, prompted to do so by Mrs. Anderson's horrifying assumptions.

He glanced out at the sea absently noticing white sails appear not very far from them. Probably a merchant ship passing by. The day was incredibly sunny and the other ship's sails seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

When Will shifted his eyes back to Blaxton he noticed a glimpse of light in the boy's eyes, a glimpse of childish indignation that did not turn into words but reminded Will of something, triggered a memory. As if the supposition that the child's parents could possibly be not alright was actually an insult.

"We were attacked," Blaxton's voice interrupted Will's train of thought.

"Attacked?"

Blaxton nodded, the word "we" somehow making the twinge of guilt less discernible. Still, somewhere in the back of his head the thought that had suddenly sprung to his mind was becoming more and more insistent. Had he not been kidnapped, nothing bad would have happened. Had he snatched himself free from Davy Jones he would have warned everyone that Jones was on board and they would have defeated him without the necessity of Grandpa Teague or his mum and dad ever going aboard the other ship to free him. The realization caught him off guard with its sudden lucidity.

"By pirates?" Will asked with slight disbelief wondering if Mrs. Anderson could have been right, after all. Maybe his imagination was running away with him while the truth was simple.

Blaxton's eyes darted to Will but for a moment he did not say anything, trying to decide what he should say. He felt tired, thinking so hard about everything he was saying. It was _so_ difficult to think about one's words spoken out loud. He was not used to it. He was used to always telling everyone, especially his parents _everything_, and it was so much easier! So much easier than keeping secrets. He actually did not quite understand the word 'secret' up till now. Apparently, being a pirate at home and being a pirate among strangers were two totally different things.

"No," Blaxton said with a small sigh and shooting Will an assessing look tried to determine if telling him about Davy Jones would help. He could not tell him that he was a pirate but telling him that they had been attacked by Davy Jones seemed alright.

"By the Royal Navy?" Will asked in a lower voice, beginning to feel afraid of the entire situation. What if his suspicions were true? And what if the worst had happened?

But Blaxton shook his head. He hesitated for one more second before admitting the truth. "By Davy Jones."

* * *

When Celeste and James returned to where the bonfire was, Teague was not there. But they spotted him a moment later. He was sitting near the water edge, staring out at the sea.

"And the sea shall part," Celeste muttered, kicking the embers with her foot.

James was about to ask her to be careful but to his surprise it almost seemed as if her feet burned the embers instead of it happening the other way around... Or rather the sun was just taking its toll on him, he thought with an inward snort.

"We could try setting the trees on fire in addition to building a boat," James said matter-of-factly, trying not to feel saddened by Celeste's attention that kept turning toward Teague. It was to be expected, of course. That man was a part of her life; a very significant part... it seemed.

Looking at the dying fire James thought that he seemed to always appear in the middle of somebody's life, at the point when there was no place for him, when it was either too early or too late for him to blend in the circumstances.

"What is the meaning of this strange smile?"

Celeste's voice shook James out of his reverie and he looked at her, his smile brightening a bit. "I'm afraid I don't possess the ability to imagine my own facial expressions. Maybe I was dreaming?" he offered, holding her gaze.

She narrowed her eyes in a small smile but shook her head. "It was a sad kind of smile," she said, mimicking his gesture and clasping her own hands behind her back.

"Maybe my dreams are sad," he countered.

"Why would they?" she asked in a soft voice.

His eyes searched hers for a brief second and then he smiled that strange smile again. "You are the most sincere mystery I have ever encountered, Celeste," he said in a low voice.

She smiled. "That's the most beautiful assessment I have ever heard," she said, her eyes glimmering. "But you're wrong."

"Am I?"

She nodded, and took a few steps toward him but then stopped, her eyes drifting away for just a second but when they returned to him they were grim.

"Maybe you should talk to him," James said under his breath.

"This won't make me happier," Celeste said with a bitter frown.

"Maybe you should talk to him to remind yourself that it won't," James said as gently as possible, trying to smile.

For the first it occurred to him that although he might have loved other women before he had never felt inclined to fight for them should they have chosen somebody else over him. Actually, he always considered it wrong, awkward to fight for love. Obstacles and hesitation were obvious indicators that the relationship was not meant to be.

However, right now, he suddenly realized that obstacles did not matter, that nothing mattered, and no storm would be strong enough to make him give up. He realized that he would, that he was going to fight.

Celeste looked at him for a moment in silence, her face unreadable. "Maybe you're right," she said at last in a barely audible whisper, squinting.

* * *

"_Davy Jones is dead."_

Will was not sure whether he had managed to say the sentence out loud or not because his mind became immediately preoccupied with the realization that too many pieces seemed to fit together, and that a child found adrift and reminding him of certain pirates could not be mentioning Davy Jones by accident.

But before he had a chance to continue the conversation the ship jerked suddenly and the sound of cannons nearly got lost among the screams erupting from people aboard.

A silhouette of a ship surrounded by smoke suddenly appeared very close to them, and what had seemed to be a merchant ship passing by suddenly turned into a ship flying pirate colors.

"Is this your parent's ship?" Will asked even though he was quite certain he already knew the answer. He quickly pulled Blaxton away from the rail.

Blaxton stared at the ship through the fog, confused by people running across the deck, confused by people screaming in dismay, confused by chaotically shouted orders mixing with repeated, frightened cries: _Pirates!_

Pirates?

Blaxton looked around, the frightened faces of everyone on board making no sense to him. Why would anybody be so scared, so absolutely terrified of pirates? He did not understand.

Shocked by what he was seeing, he answered Will's question without realizing he was actually giving a piece of vital information away. "This is not the _Black Pearl_," he said, shaking his head.

Will froze, for a moment staring at him in silence despite the frenzy around them.

It was Mrs. Anderson's scream that shook him out of his reverie and turning his head he saw that the ship was being boarded by unimaginable number of armed men reminding him suddenly of his first encounter with pirates when they had attacked Port Royal on that fateful night when everything had changed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his father's knife, the only weapon at hand. He had a sword and a pistol in his cabin but there was no time to go get them. Or was there?

Taking advantage of the commotion he caught Blaxton's hand and headed for the stairs.

Blaxton looked around, scanning his surroundings with wide eyes.

People were falling to the deck - shot, stabbed, screaming, writhing in agony. Fire and smoke were consuming everything, raging across the deck, swallowing the still bodies of the crew members who had attempted to fight the attackers.

He caught a glimpse of Lillian standing somewhere in the middle of this madness, her mouth opened as if she was screaming even though no sound could be heard. Tears were streaming down her pale face. She looked dramatically unreal against the horrifying setting.

There was a glimpse of relief that crossed her face when she noticed her parents run toward her but then a series of sounds reverberated in the air and they both fell.

They both fell. At first she could not understand, could not see why they did, why would they stop running toward her? She was calling them!... The sight of blood hit her with its abstract force that returned her voice to her and the shrill sound of her scream directed the attackers' attention to her.

Following Blaxton's gaze Will saw what had happened, the pool of blood around Mr. and Mrs. Anderson widening, nearly reaching their daughter's white shoes.

"Run below and hide!" Will shouted to Blaxton, looking him straight in the eye and almost pushing him down the stairs.

He then threw himself forward and hoisted the little girl in his arms, a gun shot barely missing her.

She kept screaming as he was trying to carry her away to safety. Safety! There seemed to be no safe place on this ship. The sickening scent of blood and burned wood filling the air along with the loud and surreal screeching of a parrot.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you so much for all the great reviews! :)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 21**

His feet were half-buried in sand, his eyes fixed on the immaculately blue water in front of him. The sea was terrifyingly bright. For a moment he was not sure if it was possible for him to be at such a point of his life in such beautiful surroundings. Should not they be grim, like his thoughts, like his choices? Filled with dust like world-old books in Shipwreck Cove. The darkness and dusty interiors were safe, conveniently familiar. He did not need false lucidity of light. Dim flickers of a candle sufficed to read, to live. The sun was just another star that kept dying from view.

"I see you enjoy the hopelessness of the situation."

The wind blew the grains of sand against him, a tremor getting lost in the miniature sand storm that slightly ruffled his hair and clothes.

He subconsciously hesitated before turning his eyes to her as if his attempt to see her could make her disappear.

"Jack has a history of being stranded on deserted islands and he managed to get off every time," Teague said slowly after a pause, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "Why should we have less luck?"

"I highly doubt he ever got off by contemplating the horizon," Celeste snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting for him to look at her. She was glad he had not done that right away, giving her time to prepare herself for it but now that it was not happening at all she felt her courage begin to falter.

Teague's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze becoming dimmer. "I don't know," he said in a barely audible, humming voice. "I've only heard rumors. I don't know the truth."

He did not need to look at her to guess that her eyes flashed more with irritation than compassion.

"It never bothered me more than now," he said pensively.

She looked down at him, torn between staying and storming away. She found herself greedily listening to everything that concerned Jack, hoping to pull out the shreds of memories from the vastness of time she was desperately trying to embrace. On the other hand, however, Teague's words offered no comfort, causing even more suspicions of her son growing up in the whirlwind of fear and loneliness to spring to her mind.

"My conscience died with you," Teague said in a low, mesmerizing voice, thick with that strange kind of alluring remorse she had always made a mistake of trusting.

"Did it?" Celeste asked, raising an eyebrow, glad for the quickness of her retort that hopefully prevented him from noticing that she shivered. "That's quite a discovery. Are you trying to say that you had a conscience before?"

"Well-hidden," he answered, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She did not smile, not even faintly. He turned his head. "Would you sit down?"

Their eyes met and Celeste's hands rolled into fists. "I have nothing to tell you," she said coolly, for the first time taking a closer look at Teague's face, noticing the deep wrinkles, the shadows around his eyes, a scar running across his cheek. For the first time it occurred to her that he was iold/i but she could not figure out the exact meaning of the word. So many years engraved in his face... yet, all she could see were his eyes - black, sad, impenetrable. The same.

He did not repeat his request but continued looking at her.

Upset and not really knowing why she sat down on the sand with a huff, averting her eyes from him. Only when he spoke she noticed that she was sitting too close to him but she felt it would be ridiculous to move further away now.

Glancing over her shoulder toward the remnants of the bonfire she slowly pressed her open palm against the sand, and then lifting it slowly, started drawing a shape of a boat with her forefinger.

"You can't remember only the dark days."

Celeste snorted humorlessly, pushing her hair behind her ears. "You know what I discovered at some point?" She turned her head to look at Teague, determined to hold his gaze. "That you had the ability to make everything painful," she said, forcing herself to appear effortlessly merciless. "With you being happy hurt as much as being unhappy. Rather astounding, don't you think?" she spoke in a slightly rushed voice, trying to make it sound cold but despite her efforts it slightly quivered with emotions. She fell silent, angry with herself.

She could feel Teague's gaze on her face. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue.

She gathered her courage and gave him the sternest look she could muster. "I will never forgive you," she said even though she quickly realized that the statement was quite superfluous seeing that he had not asked for forgiveness. She averted her eyes from him once again.

The wind blew a few strands of hair against her face and when she raised her hand to brush them off, her hand collided with his. "Leave me alone!" she said, hastily moving a few inches away.

"I know it was my fault," he said in a low voice, withdrawing his hand and outstretching his long, gnarled fingers over his knee.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the sight of them, wondering if he had correctly understood that she was distancing herself from him _in general_ and not from him now. She drew a breath, sharply scolding herself for having been making the same mistake over and over again. The vicious circle of making up. She was used to feeling guilty for the most trivial things and it had always resulted in her recurring inability to escape.

"What was your fault?" she asked mockingly, wondering if it was not the right moment to walk away. The conversation was making her head hurt reminding her of that continuous, erratic struggle that her life had been.

"You wouldn't have taken your life away if-" he started in a voice heavy with sorrow and drained of melody but she interrupted him in an almost shrill voice.

"What did you say?"

There was a familiar edge to her voice and he remembered calling it – but only in his own head – her _non-fairy_ tone of voice.

He looked at her, slightly surprised by the expression on her face that sent inexplicable shivers up his spine.

"You killed yourself but it was me who killed you, I know that," Teague said, the words sounding so foreign when spoken out loud.

It puzzled him that she just stared at him, her violet eyes wide and sparkling with indignation.

"I killed myself?" Celeste pronounced each word so slowly that it almost literally burned his conscience. He tried to discern her train of thought. "I killed myself?" she repeated and only then it dawned on him that she did not expect him to continue his miserable confession but simply answer the question.

The frown of shadowed confusion that passed across his face made her blood run cold. "Is that what Jack thinks? Is that what you told him? That I killed myself? That I left him?" She jumped to her feet, shaking, and angry in such a disarranged way that he found it necessary to stagger to his feet as well and reach out to hold her so she would not run away.

But his hand froze in mid-air and he slowly dropped it when she laughed, her laughter thoroughly bitter and filled with frustration that caused tears to well up in her eyes.

"I killed myself!" she nearly shouted, shaking her head and hiding her face in his hands in hopeless, belated, bizarre astonishment.

"Celeste, I don't..." Teague murmured in sincere, dim bewilderment after watching her for a while.

She uncovered her face and glared at him, and then without a further word turned around and marched off.

* * *

The sudden noise of rushed footsteps on the stairs leading to the brig made Jack, Elizabeth, and her parents freeze in anticipation, the atmosphere changing from grim to joyous only when a familiar face appeared in front of them.

"Mr. Gibbs!" Jack widened his eyes at his former first mate.

"Captain," Elizabeth whispered, poking Jack.

"Aye," Jack cleared his throat. "Of course. Captain Gibbs!"

Gibbs chuckled. "I'm not easily offended," he said but trailed off, rendered speechless by the sight of Governor Swann.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asked, ignoring the confused expression that appeared on Gibbs' face.

"The _Black Pearl_ was flying wrong colors," Gibbs explained with a smile. "It couldn't be a good sign so we decided to step in," he said with a wink, his eyes flickering between Governor Swann and the woman next to him. He gave Jack a questioning look but apparently, it was not the best time to ask questions.

"That's very thoughtful of you," Jack narrowed his eyes in a smile. "Now we just need to find my effects," he muttered with a twitch of his nose.

"And mine," Elizabeth cut in with a sigh, struggling not to close her eyes.

Gibbs stepped closer, helping Jack and Elizabeth's parents to hold her.

"Is she hurt?" asked Gibbs with a worried frown. "I have a doctor aboard. The man was late for his passage from England to the Caribbean and bartered one with us. Quite a figure, I tell ye. But saved a crewman's leg when-"

"Good," Jack broke in, hoisting Elizabeth into his arms, and Gibbs found it quite alarming that he did not seem even remotely interested in what Gibbs had been doing in England. Something was not right. "We are in a dire need of a doctor, in a direr need of rum, and in the direst need of... other _tools_ that I hoped we would never be in need of," Jack concluded with a small frown.

Gibbs nodded, deciding to postpone further questions. "Let's go, then."

"Aye," Jack muttered. He wanted to carry Elizabeth but she protested in such a literally feverish way that he had to kiss her to hush her and then just let her stumble while holding onto his proffered arm.

Gibbs glanced around, suddenly struck by a noticeable absence. "It's a good thing you left the kid in the Cove," he said conversationally but regretted it almost immediately when Elizabeth's eyes darted to him. He thought he remembered her look that way but he could not recall the occasion... Nevertheless, there was a silent scream in her eyes that made his blood run cold. "Holy..." he mumbled. "What happened?" he asked, giving Jack a worriedly questioning look.

"Nothing that could not be reverted, restored, and otherwise retrieved," Jack said in the firmest voice he could muster, his fingers interlacing with Elizabeth's.

* * *

"I told you to hide!..." Will said, his voice rasp from effort as he tightened his grip around Lillian to make sure the terrified child would not slip out of his arms. He quickly grasped Blaxton by his sleeve.

Being dragged by one's sleeve felt rather intimidating and it reminded Blaxton of a boy in the Cove whom he had once seen being dragged away by his father. Except that the boy had been dragged by his ear.

"I know how to fight," Blaxton argued, trying to free his hand, risking the announcement since his mum was not around. She did not know about secret sword fighting lessons and an unloaded pistol that dad had given him. His thoughts briefly drifted to the pistol under a loose floorboard in his cabin... to his cabin... to the _Black Pearl_... It was so inexplicably _odd_ to be far away from all that.

Will gave him a quick look. "I'm sure," he said quietly, eyebrows knitted, a memory flashing across his head... clashing of swords blending with laughter, the air in the smithy and Elizabeth's hair dark with dust.

Lillian was sobbing into his shoulder, shocked into a trance, her cries muffled and quiet.

Blaxton glanced at her, the difference between the haughty girl who had been asking him questions mere moments ago, and the frightened girl that she was right now making him feel indescribably gloomy. He could hear the noises coming from above, the blood-freezing screams, canons and fire shots, everything loud and unimaginable, interlaced with the word _Pirates! _uttered in such strange voices. He frowned.

Will ran into his cabin with Lillian in his arms and Blaxton's hand in his. The cabin could easily turn into a trap but he needed to get his sword.

Having shut the door closed, he put Lillian down and let go of Blaxton's hand. He pushed the wardrobe against the door to block it and took an assessing look around.

What was happening? He could hardly collect his thoughts while searching the trunk with his few belongings and pulling a sword and a pistol out of it. He had not had enough time to pack, being endowed with at least two reasons to hurry for he had received the letters at the exact moment when he had decided it was the opportune moment to run away.

Lillian did not pay the slightest attention to what was happening but the trunk caught Blaxton's interest and he leaped toward it.

"You are not a doctor," Blaxton said, struck by an idea.

"And you're not John Smith," Will retorted, narrowing his eyes in what in happier circumstances could have been a smile.

Blaxton's eyes widened slightly, curiosity taking over all other emotions as he watched Will push the pistol behind his belt and keep the sword at the ready. "Are you... a pirate?" Blaxton asked hopefully, quite certain that Doctor Collins did not look like a soldier, and only soldiers and pirates were carrying swords with them.

Will lowered his sword, giving Blaxton a look he could not quite decipher. "Do I have it written on my face?"

Blaxton seemed to consider this for a moment, and then shook his head, believing the question to be sincerely asked.

Will suppressed a smile. "That's a relief to know. Thank you."

"But... are you a pirate?" Blaxton insisted, afraid that conversation would end at no definite answer.

Will glanced at the door, grateful that nobody seemed to be chasing them. "Are you?" he asked challengingly, shifting his eyes to Blaxton who wrinkled his nose at the question in such a way that Will hardly kept himself from rolling his eyes. "Why these things are always happening to me," he muttered to himself with a humorless snort, taking his father's dagger out of his pocket and sticking it into one of his boots.

Blaxton made a mental note of the idea. "What things?" he asked, unaccustomed to not asking any question that sprung to his mind.

Will sighed. "I've been trying to keep out of trouble since I was your age," he said, and continued before Blaxton had the time to question him how could he know how old he was. "Yet I keep getting in trouble all the time since then."

"Getting in trouble is alright. You just need to get out of trouble as many times as you get in trouble." Blaxton said expertly, pouting slightly when Will did not quite succeeded in stifling a snort.

"Your father's words?"

Blaxton blinked. Will looked at him and seemed to ponder something for a moment. "Alright," he said at last, bending to the level of Blaxton's face. "Let's make a deal. I'll tell you my real name if you tell me yours."

Blaxton crinkled his nose, seemingly hesitant but Will broke the moment of silence by extending his hand and introducing himself. "Will Turner."

To his surprise, Blaxton's face lit up. "Grandpa Weatherby had a neighbor whose name was Will Turner!"

"Grandpa Weatherby," Will echoed, for the first time realizing that his suspicions were undoubtedly true. Blaxton nodded. "Well, it seems... that I'm _the_ Will Turner," he said with a small smile, searching for something in Blaxton's eyes and finding it so quickly it threw shadows of nostalgia across his memories.

"I knew you were not a doctor!" Blaxton exclaimed triumphantly but then his eyebrows knitted in slight confusion. "What does a soprano do?" he asked, suddenly remembering that something had interrupted him in obtaining a clarification from his dad when he had told him that.

Will looked at him for a moment before understanding dawned on him and he shook his head with a humorless chuckle. "Remind me to tell you a story about..." He stood up and wrinkled his forehead trying to decide what to do. On the one hand it seemed fortunate that nobody had followed them here but on the other it could only mean one thing.

"About Grandpa Weatherby?" Blaxton prompted. "He was asking about you when he woke up."

Will gave Blaxton a strange look but before he had a chance to ask for an explanation, an explosion shook the entire ship and Lillian started screaming.

An only too familiar scent of burning wood sent shivers up Will spine. "They've set the ship on fire," he muttered to himself, trying to quickly think of the best course of action. "We need to get out of here," he said, leaping to the door and beginning to move the wardrobe out of the way. Blaxton ran to help him, trying to move the wardrobe and apparently succeeding since the door was soon set free.

"We need to find a longboat," Blaxton offered.

"I'm afraid this won't be possible," Will said, kneeling down in front of Lillian and gently asking her to be quiet. She was not screaming anymore, merely sobbing but he was not sure if she would not start screaming again.

Knowing that one's parents were dead was bad enough and he could not imagine what she was feeling, having actually _seen_ her parents die. There was no time to think about that now but somewhere in the back of his mind he could not get rid of the heart-wrenchingly firm and faltering at the same time voice screaming _Take the line!_ "It will be alright," he said in a low, reassuring voice, trying to believe that he was not lying. "Your parents are still watching over you. You may not be able to see them... anymore but they are with you and they will always be." He doubted that right now the little girl could make much sense of his words but he felt this had to be said nonetheless.

Blaxton looked between Will and Lillian, wishing to contribute to the conversation – or rather Will's monologue – but not quite knowing what to say until he was struck by an idea of which he did not even know where it had come from.

He subconsciously knew what was happening even if the events were making little sense to him. Death was a surreal phenomenon and he could hardly attach it to anything except those recent events that had made everyone so happy.

"Maybe they will come back later like my Grandmas and my Grandpa," Blaxton said convincingly, and Lillian's glassy eyes darted to him.

Will looked at Blaxton with a puzzled frown, doubting that a false glimmer of hope would make any good but then beginning to actually ponder the words and finding them too strange to be simply made up to bring comfort, especially at the age of six.

But another explosion sent them all to the floor reminding Will that there was no time to lose. He lifted Lillian in his arms and then after a moment of consideration lifted Blaxton up as well.

"I can walk by myself," Blaxton protested, vaguely recalling that only small children were to be carried around like that and having his feelings hurt by such treatment.

"One pair of feet walks faster than three pairs of feet," Will said dismissively.

"I can walk _very_ fast," Blaxton insisted. "I can run very fast too! Dad says-"

"I knew that was coming," Will cut in.

Blaxton blinked finding the interruption slightly confusing.

"I want my mum and my dad!" Lillian broke into the conversation, shouting the words right into Will's ear and bursting out crying.

Blaxton glanced over Will's shoulder, his eyes widening at what seemed like an avalanche of fire rushing toward them.

* * *

"I found it behind these bushes, isn't it peculiar?" James said in the most casual voice he could muster, greeting Celeste with a question diplomatically unrelated to her flushed face.

Celeste glanced at the boat with little emotion and something in the way she simply assessed the boat rather than noticed it with visible astonishment struck James as curiously suspicious.

"Do you know- Can you imagine!" she started in an agitated voice apparently not going to take advantage of James' politely introduced opportunity for her to avoid discussing with him her latest conversation. He stepped away from the boat and came closer to her finding the fact strangely relieving. "He said- He told Jack that I killed myself! He told my son that I took my own life! He told him that I left him! Can you imagine?" she uttered every sentence in a louder voice, pressing her open palms to her face and then flailing them in the air in a slightly frantic and undeniably familiar manner.

James frowned despite or rather because finding her behavior endearing. It seemed truly untoward to enjoy her outburst and he should wish to calm her down rather than watch her, especially considering the seriousness of the subject matter.

"Why would he do that?" he asked cautiously, his voice causing Celeste to shift her eyes to him as she was once again caught off guard by the effect that his voice had on her. All anger seemed to fade.

"I don't know. I don't want to know," she said tiredly, shaking her head with a frown. "Maybe that's what he thought too!" she said with a bitter snort and squinted into the distance, for a moment actually contemplating this possibility that she had not taken into consideration.

James looked at her with gentle intensity. "I've never thought I'd ask anyone this question but..." he gave her a small smile that faded when she looked at him, and she noticed a glimmer of utmost solemnity in his eyes. "How did you die, Celeste?"

She smiled at the obvious oddness of the question but then grew pensive, letting the smile slowly vanish off her face.

His fingers skimmed across the skin of her hand and she looked up, letting his hand close around hers.

"I drowned."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :] & Since this is probably the last chapter before Christmas... **I would like to wish you all an amazing, beautiful, magical Christmas! :):):)**

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 22**

"I'm not ill," Elizabeth muttered when Jack placed her on the bed in what Gibbs claimed was the best cabin on the _Empress_.

"Of course not! You're merely wounded, injured, feverish, half-conscious, and bleeding. Trifles, really," Jack retorted, taking Elizabeth's boots off her feet and helping her scoot further onto the bed.

Elizabeth shoot him a halfheartedly dark look, glancing at her parents who refused to leave her side.

"We can't take both ships to port," Gibbs said worriedly. "All the masts are broken and dragging both the _Pearl _and the _Gold Teliza_-"

"Leave those miscreants in _Gold Teliza_'s brig. They will be found," Jack said with a frown.

"What will Captain Teague say to that?" Gibbs asked cautiously.

"You can ask him next time you see him."

"Aye," Gibbs said, glancing at Governor Swann and the beautiful lady next to him.

He had not had the chance to ask who she was and the sight of Governor Swann was catching him off guard every time he looked at him. To Gibbs, it seemed to be the most fascinating phenomenon since Elizabeth losing her memory all those years ago, and he was impatient to find out what was going on now but the opportune moment for such a conversation did not appear to be coming anytime soon.

"Which port are we going to?"

"We can't go anywhere," Elizabeth cut in with a pained expression on her face. "We have to-"

"Lizzie," Jack sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She grimaced, pressing her cheek into the pillow.

"How many people are missing?" Gibbs asked in a low voice.

Jack looked at the ceiling with a sigh.

"Blaxton," Elizabeth said quietly into the pillow, tears appearing in the corners of her eyes when she closed them.

Jack squeezed her shoulder. "My mum, Teague, Mr. Norrington."

Gibbs eyes widened slightly as he tried to process what he was hearing. "They are... _missing_?" he asked just to be sure that he was understanding everything right.

Jack gave him a pointed look. "Aye. I guess you could also add Davy Jones to your list."

"Davy Jones," Gibbs echoed, perplexed more than ever. "You surely do have a handful of stories to tell," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"And before I likely forget, we're looking for Mr. Turner as well," Jack added with a twitch of his nose.

Gibbs blinked, utterly confused. "Isn't he still the Captain of the _Flying_-"

Jack squinted. "The other Mr. Turner."

Gibbs nodded his acknowledgment even though he understood nothing. "I'll better go fetch the doctor," he said, heading out of the cabin, his mind steaming.

"If we'll leave those people in the brig on a pirate ship, the warrants for our arrest will be issued very shortly," the Governor Swann observed with a stiff, humorless smile.

Christelle made her way toward the bed, her heart clenching not only at the sight of Elizabeth's sad, fevered face but also at the striking similarity to how she remembered she had looked like when she had caught a cold once when she was just four years old.

She sat on the edge of the bed, opposite from Jack and took Elizabeth's hand in hers.

"Keelhauling them would be too time-consuming even if it would help which I doubt," Jack replied, frowning when a feverish shudder ran through Elizabeth. He ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek, and she looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

"If they will charge you with what that man said," the Governor continued, glancing impatiently at the door, hoping for the doctor to come soon, "with killing a high royal official along with numerous other people, there is only one-"

"I've had enough experience in dealing with hangman's noose, Governor," Jack cut in as politely as possible, his voice firm.

"I'm cold," Elizabeth muttered.

Christelle gently stroked her hair, offering to bring blankets but Jack stopped her, insisting that she was probably as tired as Elizabeth and she should rest while he and possibly the doctor would take care of everything. Christelle glanced at her husband who to her surprise somewhat reluctantly but still approved of the idea, suggesting that in the meantime they could prepare letters to be sent the first chance they got.

"Letters?" Jack asked cautiously.

"I'm sure the news of my death reached London," Governor Swann said with a sour smile, "but no proper funeral could have been conducted so there is no reason why the news could not prove mere rumors, is there? I know it's been years," he added seeing a doubtful look on Jack's face. "But stranger things happen and I am sure that we could manage to propose a plausible explanation not only for my but possibly also my wife's... disappearance," he said, shifting his eyes to Christelle who gave him a faint, reassuring smile.

Jack wondered if the Governor seriously considered returning to England. There were just so many obstacles he could not imagine Elizabeth's father had already taken them all into consideration but the discussion was ought to be postponed regardless of anything. He also could not help welcoming the idea of the Governor focusing on the tedious task of letter writing for a while and leaving him and Elizabeth alone with their thoughts.

"Here she is," Gibbs' voice preceded his own and the doctor's entrance, as both of them appeared in the doorway.

The doctor took a quick look around, his eyes observant and narrow, his forehead wrinkled in a constant grimace of concentration or displeasure, it was hard to judge at first sight.

"Everybody out," he said bluntly, and Gibbs glanced worriedly at Governor Swann.

"Captain Gibbs will show you to your cabin," Jack said with a smile before the Governor had the time to express his indignation at the doctor's manner.

"Of course!" Gibbs agreed quickly, giving Elizabeth's parents a bright, encouraging smile.

"I said everyone," the doctor muttered, rolling up his sleeves, and sparing a glance at Jack.

"Aye. That's exactly what I heard. It's good to know my hearing is as good as ever," Jack said, rising to his feet but remaining next to the bed and making it clear he was not going anywhere.

"I'm a doctor," the doctor said somewhat annoyed, looking Jack straight in the eye.

Jack smiled, extending his hand. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Delighted to make your acquaintance."

The doctor glanced at Gibbs who simply shrugged, and stifling a chuckle led Weatherby and Christelle out of the cabin.

* * *

Blaxton could not escape the impression that he would have run faster than Will Turner if the latter would have given him a chance to do so and put him down instead of carrying him and Lillian in his arms.

Blaxton watched the fire raging closer and closer, disappearing only when Will reached the stairs, finally making it up on the main deck but then almost immediately regretting that he did.

Had he had a free hand he would have covered the children's eyes with it but holding them both all he could do was bark a sharp and ridiculous _"don't look!"_ which he did not think would actually work. But to his relief Lillian obeyed almost immediately, pressing her tear-stained face into his shoulder. Blaxton, however, stared at his surroundings with wide eyes, stiff from cold bewilderment caused by the sight of burning flesh, people screaming in agony, the wooden deck red from blood.

"Blaxton, don't look," Will repeated, giving him an intense look that the boy finally caught when he turned his head. His shoulders were hunched, his face pale, and the effort to understand what was happening clear in his eyes. He did not ask a single question, did not even question how Will knew his name. He just stared back at Will. "Do you know how to swim?" For a moment Blaxton just continued looking at him but then nodded quickly. "Good. We need to jump off the ship," he breathed, rushing to the rail.

Lillian drew back a little and looked over her shoulder, her eyes growing wide at the distance between them and the sea below. She began screaming and kicking, accidentally hitting Blaxton and Will with her elbows.

"Jump!" Will shouted, motioning Blaxton to hold onto the rail while he was trying to calm Lillian down. He found it rather stunning that there was no hesitation in Blaxton's eyes as he deftly put his feet over the rail without questioning the idea, that was daft, to say the least. He grimaced slightly only when Will squeezed his shoulder and whispered with utmost seriousness. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful," Blaxton said with a small pout, the words along with his mum's voice echoing in his head as he drew a breath and dived into the sea.

* * *

Celeste rested her head against the tree while James sat down next to her, the boat in front of them suddenly beginning to look very unappealing, the definition of escape tossing and turning in James' head as he tried to imagine what it would have been like not to feel the need to escape anymore.

"Jack was away at the time..." Celeste started, her eyes fixed on an invisible point in space. "It was my own fault. I insisted it would be a good idea for him to sail with his father for a while because for many years they had barely seen each other. I don't think Jack even remembers those visits. When he was three I started leaving the Cove every once in a while... well, every time I was certain I was leaving for good but... somehow he always found me. It was... irritating," she said after searching for the word for a moment and James suspected that the one she had found was not completely accurate. "He pretended to pay casual visits," she continued, looking at her hands, "as if it wasn't the most bizarre occurrence in the world that he actually managed to track us down every time. But do you know what was worst? That if he came to visit while Jack happened not to be home, he wouldn't even ask about him. He wouldn't even mention him. It stunned me every time and sometimes I was so outraged I couldn't speak. He probably thought I was taken aback by his appearance," she said with a bitter snort. James watched her profile. "When Jack was about twelve I sent him away with Teague. I thought that maybe there was still a chance for them... But Jack jumped off his ship soon after and must have found his way back to the Cove only after I..."

Fighting off hesitation, James slid his hand behind Celeste's back and she gave him only a single, thoughtful look before leaning her head onto his shoulder.

She wanted to continue telling him about her past and asked him about his; he wanted to encourage her to continue on and talk about his life but... somehow the words did not seem important enough to interrupt the silence.

* * *

"Well, actually it was Elizabeth ship," Gibbs said, replying to a comment that Christelle had made concerning the _Empress_. "But when we found her after all those horrible months-" Gibbs trailed off at the sight of an alarmed expression that appeared on Christelle's and Weatherby's faces.

Trying to make up for his obvious mistake, he introduced himself and was quite baffled to find out that the lovely lady next to the Governor was in fact his late wife. (Well, as far as he remembered the Governor was _late _as well, so the situation remained thoroughly inexplicable.)

Shaking off his confusion, Gibbs wanted to carry on in a more cheerful manner but was stopped short in his efforts.

"We would be most interested in hearing all about those horrible events, Mr. Gibbs," Governor Swann said as calmly as possible.

"Captain," Christelle corrected with a warm smile.

"It's Joshamee," Gibbs said with a smile that slightly faded when he realized he would have to be the one recounting everything that had happened to Elizabeth's parents.

* * *

"I've seen worse," the doctor concluded dryly, rising to his feet.

"Me either," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, receiving from the doctor a grimace that was probably as close to a smile as one could expect of him.

"I don't think comparisons are of great importance at the moment," Jack said, twitching his nose.

"Keeping the lass warm is of greater importance indeed," the doctor observed, checking how all the wounds had been dressed for the last time, and waiting for Elizabeth to finish drinking a liquid he had prepared under Jack's irritatingly close and questions-filled scrutiny. "The fever should be gone before long."

The doctor gathered everything he had brought and turned to leave, promising to check on the lass (and this time Jack did not resist cutting in to correct the doctor) in a few hours.

"Mrs. _Captain _Sparrow," Elizabeth in turn corrected Jack, mumbling the words against the pillow.

The doctor ignored them both entirely and left, soundlessly closing the cabin door behind him.

"He reminds me of that doctor in Tortuga," Jack observed in a low voice, tucking a blanket around Elizabeth.

Elizabeth rolled onto her back and looked at Jack. He saw in her eyes that she wanted to ask him about that doctor but somehow realized, even before speaking the words, that right now she could not, that she did not want to focus her attention on anything else than...

"What if he drifted somewhere far? What if he is still adrift at sea? What if he was found by some people? What if he reveals to them who he is? What if he won't reveal-"

"Lizzie." Jack cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. "We'll find him. But your questions are not really contributory, love," he added in an attempt to make her smile, if only a little.

Elizabeth did not say anything, just looked at Jack and it worried him more than any words would. He looked back at her with a frown, and then jumped to his feet and headed for the door.

Elizabeth lifted her head off the pillow and followed him with her eyes in slight confusion. "Jack?" She wanted to ask him where he was going but it turned out that he was not going anywhere because all he did was... locking the door.

Still feeling weak, Elizabeth clumsily propped her head on her elbow and watched him walk back toward her. He flashed her a lop-sided smile as he began... taking his clothes off.

She blinked, arching an eyebrow.

Jack pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side along with _all _other pieces of garment.

"You forgot the bandanna," Elizabeth said, smiling despite the dark thoughts humming in her head.

"I'll keep it on to remain decent," Jack said with a wink, approaching the bed and sliding under the bed cover.

Elizabeth thought he was going to embrace her but instead he began undressing her. "Jack, what are you doing?" she asked, amused, barely finding the strength to slide her arms out of her shirt sleeves.

"Didn't you hear what the doctor said, love? It's my responsibility to keep you warm," he said, throwing Elizabeth's clothes on a nearby chair and drawing her close.

Elizabeth snuggled her face into Jack's chest and draped her arm around him. "It's like searching for a needle in a haystack," she whispered dejectedly.

"Love, I have a vast experience in the area," Jack said reassuringly, tightening his embrace around her and leaning his cheek on her forehead. "You were a difficult needle to find and I found you."

"After ten months," Elizabeth retorted under her breath.

Jack twitched his nose. "Aye. Not the most impressive speed, however, I'm sure it won't take that long in this case. Now, try to sleep, Lizzie," he said, expecting her to argue back but she did not say anything and after listening to her steady breathing he realized she had already fallen asleep.

He smiled faintly against her hair and closed his eyes with a sigh.

* * *

It was a true miracle to find a longboat in the madness around them. The boat must have been knocked off the side of the ship by one of the explosions.

Blaxton climbed onto the boat as soon as he noticed it and when Will landed in the water near by he quickly placed Lillian in the boat before climbing into it himself. The little girl was shaking and crying, still frightened from the fall. She stole a couple of glances up the ship, as if she did not quite believe it was where she had been mere moments ago.

"There is an oar over there!" Blaxton said, pointing to a piece of wood in the water, the tangibility of the sea bringing a much-needed impression of familiarity that improved his mood almost at an instant. "I'll go get it," he offered, preparing to jump into the water again but Will stopped him, maneuvering the boat toward it with his hands.

When Will reached out for the oar, his father's dagger slipped out of his boot. Blaxton scrambled forward and picked it up, handing it Will when he sat back down after grabbing the oar.

"Thank you," Will said, putting the dagger back into his boot.

"Won't we need another one?" Blaxton asked, glancing at the oar, realizing that Will was going to row away from the ship. "I can row too!"

"I think it'll be better if we get away from here as fast as possible," Will said under his breath in the most reassuring voice he could muster, a bit disheartened by a doubtful look that appeared on Blaxton's face.

He wanted to repeat his deep conviction that they were going to be alright but when Blaxton shifted his eyes to the ship it occurred to him that he had apparently misinterpreted the look on the child's face.

"What about other people on board?" Blaxton asked, confirming Will's suspicions and causing cold shivers to run up his spine at the necessity to say out loud the bitter truth.

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for them," he said quietly after a pause.

And it did not escape his notice that even though Blaxton did not say anything more, the doubtful look remained on his face for a longer while.

* * *

"It was as if the sea was dragging me in," Celeste started in a low voice after a prolonged moment of silence that felt so transient and so permanent at the same time, and, strangely, she felt she should end it in order to keep it; she smiled at her own, odd thoughts. "I never meant for something like that to happen. It just... happened. I don't even know how," she added, trying to recall the exact moment but it seemed so blurred she could not quite grasp the memory. "How did you die?" she whispered after a pause, lifting her head off James' shoulder to look at him.

He was so close she could see the lines on his face and it made her smile for she always considered closeness the most thrilling phenomenon, even though up to now she had experienced it only once. And now it was happening again – but very differently. She had never felt so calm before and for some reason, as puzzling as it appeared to her, the calmness seemed more thrilling that all the imaginable storms.

"James?" she prompted with a small smile and when he looked at her there was something in his eyes that made her certain he was caught off guard by the sound of his own name.

"I was... I was ran through with a sword," he said with deliberate simplicity almost smiling at how crudely casual it sounded.

Celeste bit her lip with a frown. "Did it hurt?" she asked, leaning an inch closer.

James' arm around her shoulders seemed to follow her movement for his embrace did not loosen but even seemed to tighten instead.

He gave her a thoughtful, slightly amused smile. "I don't remember. I don't remember what it felt like. I just remember that it happened."

"Me too," Celeste said with a small sigh, looking away.

But she felt that he was still looking at her so she shifted her eyes back to him, ready to say something jocular but before she had the time to do so his lips met hers in a kiss. She slid her hand onto his shoulder and he moved his hand up her back, his fingers getting tangled in her hair.

Then, suddenly, a fire shot rang through the air and made them draw apart. A brief moment of confusion lasted only until the words were spoken in a sable, deceptively even voice:

"The powder does not seem to be dry anymore."

Celeste and James looked at Teague who slowly walked past them and toward the boat, and began inspecting it. His face was motionless and unreadable but his eyes seemed almost feverish as he looked at the boat, still holding the pistol in his hand, his other hand closing around the edge of the boat, and beginning to drag it in the direction of the sea.

James glanced at Celeste who sat quietly, watching Teague with flames of ambiguous annoyance in her eyes. She stood up only when he walked past them again, taking the boat with him.

"I guess it's time to leave," she said with a frown, glancing at the tree that had been an unfortunate recipient of the fire shot. She quickly walked toward it and placed her hand over it. When she took her hand away, the tree was healed.

James blinked.

"Let's go," Celeste said, sliding her hand into his and attempting to walk on but James closed his hand around hers and turned her around in his arms.

"May I ask how you did that, Celeste?" he asked with a small smile.

"Did what?" she raised her eyebrows, her tense irritation caused by Teague's appearance fading into cautious mischief.

"With the tree," he said and she shrugged, the light in her eyes changing only when he added, "and with the boat."

"With the boat?" she asked, her eyes alight with new kind of interest.

"I'm brighter than I seem."

She laughed.

* * *

"He lied to her?" For some reason Governor Swann picked on the very point Gibbs hoped he had made as blurred as possible.

"Well..."

"I'm sure he did it not to shock her right after such a terrible accident," Christelle observed matter-of-factly, most impatient for Gibbs to carry on with the story.

"Yes, yes!" Gibbs nodded with a smile. "It was exactly how it was. If I lost all my memories I wouldn't want to be told right away about everything bad that have recently happened to me either... I guess."

"I wouldn't wish for that as well," Celeste agreed. "What happened next?"

"Revealing everything about the past is an entirely different matter," Weatherby insisted, cutting Gibbs off once again. "What I question is why he did not tell Elizabeth who she was?"

Gibbs rubbed his forehead, inwardly praying for something to happen, something that would interrupt the conversation and set him free from being forced to confess the rest of Jack's love-motivated sins.

To his joy, his prayers were apparently answered because the galley's door opened and Jack walked inside. "I changed my mind concerning the _Gold_-"

"I predicted that!" Gibbs announced cheerfully, rising to his feet. "I ordered for those whom we'd captured to be left adrift in longboats while I left some of the crew on the _Gold Teliza_ so they could make all possible repairs and take her to port on their own as soon as it's possible. Meanwhile, we're on our way to Trinidad."

Jack gave Gibbs a suspicious look, shifting his eyes between Elizabeth's parents and him, unable to ask Gibbs what was the subject of their conversation because Gibbs hurriedly excused himself, leaving the cabin in order to take the helm.

"Captain Gibbs told us how Elizabeth became the Pirate King, about the battle, about... the _Flying Dutchman_ and about Elizabeth's accident!" Christelle quickly summarized the conversation to Jack whose eyes widened as he made a mental note to keelhaul Gibbs.

"Yes, that is a most disturbing story," Weatherby said, giving Jack a wary look that turned into a strangely blank and embarrassed one when Jack walked closer to where they were sitting.

The expression on Christelle's face also changed a bit and she seemed to stifle a smile. Jack's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Governor Swann rose to his feet, explaining that he intended to write the letters he had mentioned before. Christelle made to follow him but before she went out of the cabin she quickly turned toward Jack and gave his shirt a meaningful look.

When the door closed after Elizabeth's parents Jack looked down on his shirt with a frown... and rolled his eyes upon noticing that he was wearing it inside out.

* * *

Even before the burning ship completely disappeared from view, both children fell asleep, obviously exhausted by everything that had happened and everything they had witnessed. Will looked at them with a worried expression on his face, wondering what he should do upon reaching land, granted they would reach it.

His situation was complicated enough, and the necessity to take care of two little children definitely did not make anything easier. There was a little girl whose parents had been murdered, Jack and Elizabeth's son, and he himself – an accidental fugitive pursued by the King himself who was trying to return home after being away for much longer than he had intended.

Will sighed, wondering how it all could possibly come down to this; how it was possible that finding Jack Sparrow suddenly presented itself as the most sensible thing to do.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews & **I wish you all a Very Happy New Year! I hope 2011 will be an awesome year for you! :)**

Disclaimer: _PotC_ belong to Disney.

**Chapter 23**

_Teague and James were sitting on opposites ends of the boat, both holding a single oar and rowing in silence. Celeste was sitting in the middle of the boat with her head propped on her elbows, staring into the distance._

"_We're devils and black sheep..." Teague muttered quietly in a singing voice._

_Celeste reached out over the edge of the boat, skimming the water surface with her hand. The ocean was so calm._

"_Yo, ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me," Teague sang under his breath._

_James squinted against the sun trying to remember when and where he had heard the song-_

_Celeste's scream seemed to cut the still air like a fire shot and before they even collected their thoughts she was already in the water, quickly disappearing under the churned up surface._

_

* * *

_

His calligraphic writing was slowly covering the page, a word after a word, a line after a line... When he was about to draw another sheet of paper Christelle's hand over his stopped him. Weatherby looked at her and returned her faint smile, covering her hand with his. She was sitting next to him at the table and leaned her head against his shoulder with a small sigh.

"Would you really want to return to London?" Christelle asked in a low voice.

Governor Swann ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "Wouldn't you?" he asked gently, shifting his eyes to their hands, his eyebrows knitting together.

He could feel her smile. "I don't know. I remember we were never quite content with living there... Do you remember? We talked about moving somewhere else, only there was neither a place that seemed right enough nor good enough reasons..." she said, glancing up at his face, drawing back when she noticed a worried frown overshadowing his features. "But if you think-"

He smiled humorlessly, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "It's not that," he said a bit hollowly, placing her hand over the letter he was writing and positioning his own hand next to hers. "I carry the burden of all those years you've been deprived of," he said under his breath and for a moment she looked at him in confusion, her eyes traveling between his face and their hands on the table. "I am most grateful for the gift of looking into your eyes again," he said, turning his head to look at her. She gave him a small smile, biting her lip to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes. "However, I cannot hope for the future to be equally long for both of us," he glanced at their hands again and it finally dawned on her what he was thinking.

She impatiently intertwined her fingers with his. "Don't say that!"

Governor Swann shook his head. "I want to do as much as I can, while I still can, for you and for our daughter. If I can rebuild our life to some extent, this is what I intend to do, so you can benefit from it when I'm gone."

"How can you talk about such things?" Christelle exclaimed, cutting him off, trying to cup his face in her hands and with a twinge of pain realizing that her touch was somehow making him uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"Time won't wait for us to recover the days we've lost," Weatherby said, very lightly stroking her hair with his fingertips.

"You haven't changed at all," she said with a soft, amused smile bringing her face closer to his. "You were always coming as close to the edge as possible but never actually falling, never wishing to fall," she said quietly in a voice that was not scolding or judging... It was simply her voice, as vivid, bright and clear as he remembered. "Let us fall, let us live without worrying about the future, about the world. Every day can be the last, regardless of your age or mine. You should know that by now."

"Christelle-"

"Kiss me."

Governor Swann looked at her as if she asked him to complete a virtually impossible task. She laughed but then became serious again, her eyes glimmering with her inner light that he had never forgotten.

"I remember us. Do _you_ remember us?"

"How can you ask?" he asked with sudden ardency that was so reminiscent of the past, of those rare instances of sincere nervousness.

She smiled. "Kiss me."

* * *

Gibbs listened to the entire story with his mouth agape and once Jack finished recounting all the latest events they grabbed their respective rum bottles as it seemed the only proper reaction to such a complicated and bizarre turn of events.

"Immortal or not-" After a longer while Gibbs started cautiously with a worried frown but trailed off when the cabin's door was pushed open.

Jack jumped from his seat. "What are you doing on your feet, Lizzie?" he exclaimed, looking her up and down when she appeared in the doorway. "On your _bare_ feet!"

"You can't keep me in bed all the time," Elizabeth muttered, hardly keeping her eyes open.

Gibbs coughed stifling a chuckle. Jack briefly narrowed his eyes at him before turning to Elizabeth again, placing his hands on her shoulders and trying to maneuver her out of the cabin.

"I want to stay here," she whispered stubbornly and he noticed that for a moment her gaze lost its blurry quality caused by fever and exhaustion and became desperately clear and serious. "I can't sleep. I tried but... only nightmares come."

Jack wordlessly pulled her into an embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

* * *

Will could hardly believe their luck when land came into view. The children were still asleep and there was no need for him to worry about them not having anything to eat or drink in so many hours anymore. He felt as if great weight was lifted off his shoulders. Starving in the middle of the ocean was probably a death far more cruel than being shot or even run through with a sword-

His train of thought came to a sudden stop at the memory, as he realized, to his own astonishment that he had never thought about _that_, not once. He had never returned in his thoughts to the moment when Davy Jones had stabbed him. He did not even remember it too well... just a flash of lightning mirrored in the blade... and a voice... a screaming voice that grew softer and softer until he could hear nothing at all...

"Where are we?" Blaxton asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes.

Will's eyes darted to him. "We're heading there," he said, pointing to land.

Blaxton quickly turned around, his eyes widening at the sight.

"We won't know where we are until we get there," Will said in a low voice, frowning slightly.

Blaxton looked toward the land for a longer while before turning to Will again. "I think it's Trinidad," he said matter-of-factly, wrinkling his nose.

Will blinked.

* * *

"Celeste, are you alright?" James' eyes roamed anxiously over her face as he tried to shake her out of her visibly disturbing dream. "Celeste?" He wondered if he only imagined Teague's unreadable features becoming more tense every time he uttered the name.

She finally opened her eyes, gasping for breath as if she had been pulled out of the water.

"Celeste?"

She looked at him, the glimmer of fright in her eyes beginning to fade. "I had the strangest dream."

"Bad dreams mean you're alive," Teague said, turning around to continue rowing.

"But they can't keep you alive for long," James said, glancing at him, trying to guess how he could have endured that terrifying moment without trying to wake Celeste up himself – and how he could have turned around before she had fully recovered from her nightmare. Was he afraid of her reaction or did he not care? Or perhaps was unable to show that he cared. There was a part of James that could identify with it... but he felt as if that part of him had gone away a long time ago and he could no longer recall his own erroneous reasoning.

"What was it about?" James asked, considering it safe to tuck a strand of Celeste's hair behind her ear since Teague's back was turned to them.

She shook her head, leaning it against her hand with a sigh. "I don't know... I was drowning... again."

Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Teague stealing a blank glance over his shoulder.

"Drowning?"

She stared into the distance for a second before shifting her eyes to him. "Yes... but... it wasn't that simple," she added thoughtfully, blurred memories flashing across her mind as she was recalling the last day of her life... the moment before everything had ended... and she suddenly realized that not only Teague was wrong in his assumption that she had killed herself; she was also wrong because she had not drown, not exactly...

She remembered she had gone swimming... and then she remembered cold fingers closing around her ankles, pulling her under the surface and then deeper and deeper into the darkness of the sea, the sun becoming a glass rosette she was quickly losing from view.

* * *

"Are you going to count my hair again?" Elizabeth muttered against Jack's lips when he was trying to make her fall asleep and get some rest despite her insisting protests that it made no sense.

Jack chuckled under his breath. "I may, especially that I've never completed the task. There was never a night – or a day for that matter – long enough."

She smirked faintly without opening her eyes. "I counted your dreadlocks once." Jack widened his eyes at her and she smiled as if she actually had seen this. "I did."

"Well, how many are there?" he asked after a pause.

She laughed briefly, tiredly under her breath. "If you guess... I'll be agreeing with everything you say for... three days."

The corners of Jack's mouth twitched upward. "Three weeks."

Elizabeth shifted in his arms. "Four days."

"Two weeks," Jack said, squinting.

"Five days."

"One week."

Elizabeth bit her lip and sighed. "Alright. One week."

"Agreed!" Jack said, brushing his lips against hers and closing his eyes as well.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, shooting him a suspicious look. "Jack?"

"You didn't say how much time I have to come up with said guess, did you, love?" Jack said, keeping his eyes closed.

Elizabeth huffed in mock annoyance, snuggling against him.

Jack opened his eyes and closed them again only when she finally fell asleep.

* * *

It was indeed Trinidad where they had arrived and Will was not sure how he felt about the fact that a six year old child turned out to be right. Even though the explanation was simple (for Blaxton had been there before) it made him feel uneasy nevertheless and he just hoped he would retain his authority status despite his lack of traveling experience.

Lillian had woken up when they had been getting close to shore but had remained quiet except for answering questions. She was not cold, she was not thirsty or hungry and she was able to walk, although Will suspected that she was not exactly telling the truth. She was treading slowly next to him with her eyes cast to the ground, and seemed very tired despite refusing to admit it.

Blaxton led the way to a tavern where the three of them sat down, the relief of being on land clear on their faces even though none of them said it out loud.

Having two small children with him, Will attracted favorable attention from the barmaids, the fact that he realized only when one of them gushed that his daughter looked just like him! Lilian did not seem to mind or even catch the comment, fully concentrated on staring at her plate after eating just a little bit of what Will had ordered.

Blaxton, on the other hand, seemed to pick up on the false assumptions because once the barmaid was out of the hearing range he leaned over the table and asked in a conspirational whisper what their names were going to be?

"I don't think we need to pretend we're anybody else but ourselves," Will answered a bit carelessly, without giving the question a second thought. "We haven't done anything wrong."

Blaxton twitched his nose. "So why were you pretending to be Doctor Collins before?" he asked, sincerely interested in an answer.

Will's eyebrows knitted in thought as he realized the unfortunate irrelevance of his previous statement. "I was recognized as Doctor Collins when I stepped aboard. I merely didn't deny that I wasn't him," he explained somewhat hesitantly.

"Why?" Blaxton stopped eating and just looked at him expectantly.

"It seemed like a better solution," Will said after a pause.

"Why?"

Will put away his fork. "I assumed that if real Doctor Collins hadn't shown up for his passage on time, it wouldn't make any difference if I'd taken his place. I was afraid that I wouldn't be let on board if I wasn't among the expected passengers and I really needed to get out of England. But-" he continued before Blaxton had a chance to ask him another question. "I'm not going to tell you why."

"Why?" Blaxton asked with a twitch of his nose.

Will looked at him, trying to keep amusement out of his face. He leaned over the table and said in a low voice. "Because you're a pirate."

Lillian froze in her seat.

Blaxton opened his mouth to speak but closed it, not able to find a good retort, trying to understand how Will's words actually answered his question. "I won't tell anyone," he said at last with a small frown.

Will glanced right and left. "Someone might overhear it."

Blaxton's eyes brightened with interest. "Are you on a secret mission? Is soprano a type of a spy?" he asked, his interest growing.

Will shook his head with a humorless snort. "Let me clarify something first. I'm not a soprano. I'm a blacksmith."

Blaxton's eyes could not have possibly brightened more. "You make swords!" he exclaimed, jumping in his seat and knocking out his drink, forgetting all about conspirational tone of voice.

Will smiled at his reaction but then his eyes drifted to where Lillian was... had been sitting next to Blaxton. He jumped to his feet and quickly looked around.

"She's disappeared!" Blaxton said, also only then noticing that Lillian must have somehow slid under the table from her seat and then run away.

Will put his hands to his head wondering how he could lose a child like that, dreading the thought of the little girl wandering the streets alone. It was dusk already. To his further dismay, Blaxton suddenly sprung forward, heading for the tavern's door. Will hesitated for just a second before following him.

* * *

"It's a miracle we made it," James said, helping Celeste out of the boat.

"A miracle is an aftermath's prologue," Teague observed, glancing at the lights glimmering in the distance, the dark sky enveloping their surroundings like an ink-painted blanket.

Celeste was about to retort but she was cut off by something small and crying tumbling against her and almost knocking her down. She shrieked out of mere surprise rather than fear and the next thing they could all hear was a splash and a scream.

Without a second thought, James dove into the water and Celeste waited with bated breath until he resurfaced a moment later, holding someone in his arms.

Teague bent down in what seemed to Celeste like an inappropriately unhurried manner, taking the child from him while James pulled himself out of the water smiling slightly at the relieved look on Celeste's face.

"It seems like I have learned something, after all, and from the best too," he said but she had no time to dwell on what he actually meant because they all focused on the little girl who had been brought out of the water, coughing and crying.

"Are you alright?" Celeste asked, kneeling next to the terrified child. "What's your name?"

The sound of rushed footsteps made the choked out answer unable for them to hear and when Celeste looked up she could hardly believe her eyes.

"Blaxton!" she said and Blaxton stopped dead in his tracks, confused for a moment because of the semi-darkness around them but after a second he could make out the familiar shapes and he smiled at the sight of Grandma and Grandpa!

The little girl's reaction, however, was far from joyful. As soon as she recognized Blaxton, she began crying even louder. "He's a _pirate_!" she screamed, snatching herself free from Celeste but luckily Teague blocked her way and she could not run away again.

"Oh that is most surprising," James suddenly said when one more person joined them.

Having finally caught up with Blaxton Will stopped next to them, trying to catch his breath, confused only a little by the entire situation – and then confused very much when he saw James.

"Where is the _Black Pearl_?" Blaxton questioned, looking around with great impatience.

Celeste hugged him but then looked at him sadly. "I'm afraid we've arrived here on this unimpressive ship," she said, pointing to the small boat floating on the water.

"Oh," Blaxton acknowledged dejectedly and sighed so heavily that Celeste hugged him again and then smiled encouragingly.

"I'm sure it won't be long until we will all be back on the _Black Pearl_," she reassured him.

In the meantime, finding the blocking of the way quite annoying, Teague simply hoisted Lillian up into his arms to prevent her from running anywhere. She opened her mouth to scream again but the sight of Teague's face in such proximity rendered her speechless, and she just stared at him with wide eyes, utterly terrified. Teague raised his eyebrows quite amused by this reaction but then frowned when the child's head fell limply against his shoulder.

"I think the child has passed out," Teague muttered more to himself than to anybody else.

"That's a proper reaction," Celeste snapped, glancing up at him.

"She's had a fair share of suffering as for one day," Will said, shifting his eyes between everyone. "Maybe I will introduce myself..." he said uncertainly, hoping to make everything clearer for himself. Celeste rose to her feet, holding Blaxton's hand in hers. "Will Turner."

"Celeste," she said, extending her hand to him.

"He makes swords!" Blaxton cut in excitedly.

"Does he?" she gave Blaxton an amused smile.

"Yes, Mr. Turner was our local hero," James observed dryly.

Celeste's eyebrows knitted in interest. "Do you know each other?" she asked, looking between them.

"In one of our previous lives," Will retorted.

James snorted under his breath. "Very true."

"Is anybody else here?" Teague asked, looking at Will who had a strange impression that the man could read his thoughts – or at least he seemed to know everything about him, and Will vaguely recalled who that man might be.

"Not anybody I know," Will said cautiously.

"Not anybody I know too," Blaxton added with a shrug.

Celeste gave him a bright smile which faltered. "Your parents don't know where you are, do they?" she asked kneeling next to him again. Blaxton shook his head. "They must be worried," she said with a thoughtful frown, her eyes wandering searchingly all over him. "What is this?" she asked, taking a tooth braided into his hair between her thumb and forefinger.

"It's a tooth that I lost," Blaxton said, proudly straightening up at the memory. "Actually, I lost three teeth but I have only one of them," he said, trying to glance at the tooth out of the corner of his eye. "Mum has another one and Dad has one too."

Celeste smiled.

"We need to find a place to stay," Teague said, glancing at the child in his arms and feeling quite strange and uncomfortable in the position he was in. He felt a twinge of odd emotion at the muffled realization that he had never carried a child like that, and he felt as if the realization brought him an inch closer to deciphering the iridescent accusation in Celeste's eyes.

"That we do," James said, approaching Celeste and Blaxton and asking the latter if he could walk or wished to be carried like his friend.

"I can walk," Blaxton reassured him very firmly.

As they started walking, Celeste leaned toward James and whispered into his ear. "That wasn't very kind, not to offer this to others as well."

James' lips twitched into a smile. "Is there a way I could redeem myself?"

"I will try to think of one," she answered, stifling a chuckle, and then turning to Blaxton who most eagerly began telling her about everything that had happened.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 24**

Elizabeth jolted awake, hitting Jack in the eye with her elbow in the process.

"Oi," Jack complained, sitting up as well and shaking his head in an attempt to fully wake up and see what was going on. "How fortunate that I sleep with my eyes closed," he said as soon as he realized everything was more or less in order.

"I had a dream," Elizabeth whispered, catching her breath.

Jack stopped checking if his eye was still in place and looked at Elizabeth, his eyebrows knitted. "Don't dwell on that too much, love," he said, tucking loose locks behind her ear.

She leaned her cheek against his hand with a faint smile. "But it was a good dream, Jack."

He brushed a kiss across her cheek and locked his arms around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder with a small sigh.

"Blaxton is on Trinidad," she said, sliding her hand through the opening in Jack's shirt and closing it around his shoulder.

Jack smiled into her hair. "That would be most fortunate."

"Your mother told me that he is."

Jack glanced right and left. "Did she?"

"I don't know why you don't believe that she's a witch if she claims that she is. If it turns out that Blaxton is exactly where we're going it will be the best proof that there is something to it. Don't you think?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "Teague always laughed at that. I don't know when I took for granted that it was not a serious matter. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's true."

Elizabeth drew back a little to look at him. "Do you think there is hope for them?" Jack looked nonplussed and Elizabeth stifled an urge to roll her eyes. "For your mother and Teague?"

Jack shrugged. "It's always been hopeless yet it lasted for as long as I remember." Elizabeth tapped her fingers against his skin. "What is it, Lizzie?" he asked, correctly reading the gesture as a sign there was something on her mind she was not sure if she should voice.

"Have you ever refused the call of the sea?" she asked, looking up at him. "Would you ever-"

"The call of the sea?" Jack echoed with raised brows. "What's that?"

Elizabeth chuckled under her breath. "Would you ever choose something… or someone over the sea?"

He looked down on her, running his fingers over the side of her face. "Do you doubt that I would?" he asked quite seriously and she smiled.

"I'd like t hear it."

He smirked and leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She slightly straightened up, holding onto his arms and kissing him back.

"I would choose you over everything, including the _Black Pearl_, the sea-"

"The rum?" she offered with a coy smile.

Jack squinted. "Aye. Including the rum!"

Elizabeth kissed him. "Because you see… Teague told me once that he chose your mother over the sea and I wonder if she knows-"

Jack snorted and she stopped in mid-sentence arching an eyebrow.

"I can't recall such an event. He was hardly on land in those years," Jack muttered.

"You don't understand," Elizabeth said, shifting in his arms. "It's not that simple," she frowned, the subject making her slightly uncomfortable for some reason and he understood why when she continued. "He never told you about that? He never told you that… he was to become the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_?"

Jack stared at her with wide eyes. "Teague? The Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_? He must have been taking you in, love. He's quite a storyteller. That is when he actually _talks_."

Elizabeth seemed skeptical. "I don't think he was lying. Why would he lie to me about that?"

"Alright," Jack moved them both toward the headboard, leaning against it and drawing Elizabeth beside him. "What did he tell you?"

"That Calypso wanted him to become the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and only when he refused she offered the task to Davy Jones." She looked at Jack who looked ahead with a frown on his face.

"That's a strange story."

"He said that when he refused that… _call_, Calypso cast a curse upon him telling him she would claim everyone he ever cared for."

"The man should write fairy tales."

"Jack, this isn't even remotely amusing. Especially now."

Jack gave her a questioning look.

"Now even Blaxton is in danger," Elizabeth said hollowly. "The dagger of water and fire. Of _water_! There must be a reason for this."

Jack looked at her. "Lizzie, do you really think that what is happening right now may have something to so with that… _story_?"

"I didn't but when I started thinking about it more… That woman you got the herbs from. You knew about her from Teague."

"Everyone in Shipwreck Cove knows about her," Jack cut in with a shrug.

"I know. But somehow everything seems to be connected. Don't you see?"

"Those herbs actually brought my mother back," Jack argued.

"I'm not saying it's all done on purpose and I'm not trying to determine who is involved in this scheme or even whether there even is a scheme. All I'm saying is that everything seems to fit together… not perfectly perhaps but enough to make it worth devoting some attention to the idea."

They were both silent until Jack said in a low voice. "My mother drowned."

Elizabeth bit her lip and drawing a breath whispered. "You drowned too. It was my doing but still-"

"Lizzie, Lizzie." He silenced her, trailing small kisses across her lips, allowing the last kiss to linger long enough for her to return it. "Only _I_ am allowed to be bringing this story up," he murmured.

She kissed him in amused agreement. "But now you see it all actually makes sense! In a way, the sea claimed you and your mother… Whom else Teague cares about?"

"The Code, his guitars, his Spanish pistols collection-"

"Jack." Elizabeth interrupted him, squinting.

"I'm quite certain he attributes human qualities to all of these," Jack insisted with a twitch of his nose.

Elizabeth fell against the pillows with a sigh of exasperation.

* * *

"There you go," Celeste said, braiding the tooth back into Blaxton's hair.

Blaxton checked if the tooth was properly in place and was about to question what his grandma had needed it for in the first place but at that moment James walked into the room.

"I don't think it will get any quieter," he said and sighed when they could all hear another table being probably crashed somewhere downstairs, laughter and loud voices making it easy to forget it was well past midnight.

"I'm sure Blaxton is so tired he'll fall asleep regardless of the noise," Celeste said with a smile, kissing her grandson on the forehead and tucking the blanket around him.

"I'm not tired, grandma," Blaxton argued, stifling a yawn.

Celeste froze for a second, caught off guard by being addressed that way for the very first time. She smiled and brushed Blaxton's hair off his forehead, a long-forgotten gesture. Blaxton pressed his cheek against the pillow but then sat up again. Celeste looked at him expectantly, following his gaze that drifted toward the closed door leading to an adjacent room.

"Is… Lillian asleep?" Blaxton finally asked with a grim look on his face.

"Yes, I believe so," Celeste replied in a soft voice. "She fell asleep a while ago."

James walked toward the other room's door, soundlessly pressed the knob and peered inside. The small room was almost completely dark except for a lamp Lillian had insisted on leaving lit. "She's asleep," James confirmed, closing the door.

"Her parents are dead," Blaxton said barely above a whisper.

James clasped his hands behind his back and looked away.

"I know," Celeste said, squeezing Blaxton's hand.

"Do you think... we could bring them back?" Blaxton asked, tilting his head to the side. "Like we did with you, grandma Christelle, grandpa Weatherby and..." he glanced at James who was staring pensively into the distance.

Celeste caught the hint of hesitation in his voice and quickly offered: "and Uncle James?"

James darted his eyes to them. Celeste looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. "Well," she said, looking back to Blaxton. "I think we should wait for your mum and dad to discuss this with them. But I guess that while it isn't probable it seems to be at least possible," she added, her last sentence cheering Blaxton up a bit. "However for now, the best we can do is to assure Lillian she has friends who care for her."

Blaxton's eyebrows knitted together. "I don't think she wants to be friends with me."

"Why would that be?" Celeste asked with a small frown.

"Because I'm a pirate and she thinks that pirates killed her parents," he said, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Even so, I don't think she blames you for this," Celeste observed cautiously.

"She does," Blaxton replied firmly, a sad look on his face.

"I'm sure she'll look at it differently tomorrow," Celeste said reassuringly. "After a good night sleep. You should also try to sleep now. The morning sun will cast brighter shadows on everything."

Blaxton seemed to ponder this for a moment. Celeste gave him another smile but when Blaxton noticed that she was about to stand he stopped her. "Grandma, will you tell me a story?"

"A story?" Celeste sat down again. "Let me think..." she bit he lip and sighed. "You know, it was usually your dad telling me stories," she said, smiling at the memory. "But..." she squinted, stifling a mischievous smirk. "Maybe uncle James knows a good story to tell?"

James was about to protest but seeing Blaxton's face lit up at the idea he just cleared his throat and not seeing a way out of the situation moved a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat down, giving Celeste a long look.

She bit back a smile and straightened up. "I'd be very happy to hear a story too," she said, holding his gaze.

James looked fairly troubled. "I've never told any stories to anyone," he admitted under his breath.

"How come?" Blaxton asked, straightening up, looking at him in anticipation. "You must know so many stories!"

James gave him an amused smile. "I must have just never thought of them as _stories_, then_._"

"Every day is a story," Celeste said with a small, jocular shrug, exchanging a smile with Blaxton who seemed to wholeheartedly agree with that. "Every life is a book."

"Yes, nonetheless some books are masterpieces and some... are not," James said, slightly narrowing his eyes.

"Uncle Gibbs said you sailed through a hurricane!" Blaxton offered helpfully, suddenly recalling hearing about that.

"Did you really?" Celeste picked up on Blaxton's prompt with great enthusiasm that James, however, doused rather immediately.

"Oh no, not this one," he stated firmly, leaning back in his chair. "This is an unhappy story," he added at Celeste's words of encouragement.

"Unhappy stories are also good," Blaxton observed convincingly. "You can always learn something from them."

"That's very true," Celeste quickly agreed.

James shook his head. "I'm not telling this story."

"Let's play a game," Celeste proposed with a glimpse of mischief in her eyes. James looked between her and Blaxton uncertainly, not sure he liked the idea. "If I make you laugh, you will tell the story. If I don't make you laugh… you won't have to tell it."

Blaxton looked very much in favor of the idea as he scooted to the middle of the bed, not even remembering he had been feeling drowsy just a few moments ago.

"Make me laugh?" James repeated suspiciously, not sure what to expect but Celeste's smile was innocent enough and so he carelessly agreed, regretting his decision as soon as she swiftly rose to his feet and to Blaxton's delight and his own dismay started… tickling him!

James was so caught off guard but the situation that in a fable attempt to save himself from the predicament without resorting to pushing Celeste away he fell off his chair, hitting the floor with a thud and hitting his head against the nearby cabinet.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Celeste exclaimed, kneeling next to him, sincerely worried.

Blaxton slid off the bed, landing next to his grandma.

James waved his hand with a weak smile. "I'm alright," he reassured them.

"Are you sure?" Celeste asked, looking at him very intensely but unfortunately he missed the warning and nodded.

But as soon as Celeste gave Blaxton a bright smile he knew he had made a mistake because now they both started tickling him and he could do nothing else but laugh.

They all laughed but then fell silent at the sudden sight of a little girl in the doorway, her pale face adorned by light hair still not perfectly dry after the bath Celeste had helped her take. Lillian stared at the scene with unseeing eyes.

"Did we wake you up, angel?" Celeste asked gently, quickly walking to the child. "I'm so sorry."

Lillian just looked at her, her lower lip quivering as if she was about to cry but somehow she did not and when Celeste offered to walk her back to her room she did not move and after a longer moment of silence asked unsmilingly in a quiet, slightly faltering voice:

"May I also listen to the story?"

"Of course!" Celeste almost shouted, relieved by the question. "And seeing how I won, we'll listen to the story about the hurricane which I'm sure is very interesting," she added, shooting an amused look at James over her shoulder.

* * *

Having doused the lamp, Will lay awake in the darkness thinking about the situation. He felt so tired he doubted he would be able to sleep even though it seemed to be the most sensible thing to do. In his current state of mind he was unable to process the latest events and draw reasonable conclusions. Coming across Elizabeth's son was a strange coincidence but it was nothing in comparison to meeting people one of whom was… had been most certainly dead. Not to mention meeting Jack's mother who seemed young enough to be Elizabeth's sister. It all made no sense but perhaps he should not be surprised.

But the most pressing issue was to decide what he should do next. He could probably leave Blaxton with his grandparents. There was nothing that could be wrong with that and then he could just be on his way. He was in a hurry anyway. But what about Lillian? He could of course leave her with Teague, Celeste, and James and leave worrying about it to them but it just did not seem right. Either way, he felt that he could not just forget about those two days of his life. He could not move on as if nothing had happened. His own problems were serious enough, however…

He turned his head to look through the window.

Somewhere out there was his wife and his daughter.

He_ hoped_ that somewhere out there was his wife and his daughter.

He received both letters at the same time. One letter containing the joyous news - and the other, brief and horrifying, written by Mrs. Roggson in a strangely (and as he had suspected purposefully) dry tone. He knew that the elderly lady would not have informed him about his wife and daughter's death in such a tone. What was even more suspicion was that Mrs. Roggson's letter was dated as written two days _before_ his wife's letter in which she had informed him that he had become a father. Something was wrong but until he reached Maldream he would not be able to discern the truth and find out what had really happened.

But despite that he could not know anything for certain, somehow he felt that they were not dead and that sooner or later he would find them.

* * *

Deep in thought, Teague climbed the stairs thinking about what he had just heard in the tavern, about the ship with the Governor aboard being ransacked and burned by pirates – a story Teague would have paid little attention to if familiar names were not attached to it.

Bad news traveled fast but it was lies traveling fast that he had learned to watch out for and what he had just heard left him angry and worried, although all the emotions remained hidden behind the reliably unreadable façade of his face.

He walked across the corridor and paused next to the door behind which he knew his grandson was sleeping. He thought he would check on him but when he placed his hand on the knob, the sound of laughter made him still his movements. He could hear joyful voices on the other side, single words interlaced with laughing.

Very carefully he opened the door for just an inch and then pushed it a bit more, just enough to see, through the small crack, four figures in the room.

Blaxton was sitting in the middle of the bed, Celeste on the edge of it, holding Lillian on her lap. The little girl barely smiled when others laughed but Celeste and Blaxton's laughter made up for it, causing enough noise.

James was sitting in a chair near the bed, apparently telling a story but Teague could not catch the words at all due to a deafening, soundless _noise_ invading his ears.

Celeste wrapped her arm around Blaxton who scooted over to her. Lillian shot him a half-blank, half-dark look and turned away but he smiled again a bit when Celeste gave him a reassuring smile.

Teague noiselessly closed the door wondering why the scene seemed so odd to him, so foreign, so impossible. Why had he never been a part of such a scene? Why such a moment had never happened to him? And why it was probably too late to ask any of these questions.

* * *

"Search every port, every island, every town you can reach," a man said after having heard what all the soldiers they had found adrift had to say. "I want all of them captured _and hanged_ within a fortnight. Is that clear?"

Shuffling of feet and raised, firm voices of soldiers gathered on deck answered him.

"No pirate escapes justice." Admiral Greywood turned away to look at the sea, his silver eyes narrowed. "As long as justice is me."


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 25**

Her hand felt cold against his shoulder and he only slightly turned his head, too exhausted to feel angry again... still... too exhausted to try to understand. The question came out in a whisper and he struggled to convince himself that he was truly interested in an answer:

"Why did you make it so that I was brought back?"

She slowly ran her fingers up his arm and he almost shuddered finding the gesture so clearly insincere that he could hardly believe he had ever considered it loving. He could not trace back the moment when it had dawned on him... somewhere between his return and now... somewhere between hope and truth...

"My heart has always belonged to you."

He recognized the words but they did not sound right, they sounded foreign and infinitely strange.

His thoughts seemed to laboriously drag themselves across his mind as he tried to make the necessary connection. It was not in her nature that she had no come, had not waited. Nature had, could not possibly have anything to do with it. Had she loved him she would have come. He was not sure why he was thinking about it now, of all moments; now that she was so close that he could feel her breath on his deformed neck. He closed his eyes before a drop of the bitterest disappointment, regret, resignation could escape.

"What do you want me to do?"

He could feel her smile and it was strangely and very faintly soothing that she seemed to belong to her own illusion now - while he was breaking free.

"If you find the dagger and kill the immortal to become immortal yourself, I will give you back your heart and we will be together again for the rest of eternity," Calypso whispered in a voice that did not falter, her fingers closing around his arm.

Davy Jones opened his eyes and stared into the distance. Those words sounded more familiar. _"She can't be trusted. You must bind her or all of you will perish."_

For a moment he wanted to turn around and tell her that revenge-

But to tell her that he would need to care and with even a memory of his attachment being almost gone he could not bring himself to care to protect her. He had died loving her and he had returned with that feeling still beating in his empty chest... but watching her torment that ship with such fury he had suddenly, in a blink of a thunder, understood what he had never even suspected – that she could not give him her heart because it belonged to somebody else, or at least she was not sure herself where it belonged...

From the debris of memories and shreds of conversations he made out an amorphous shape of the truth that had a face, and a name – and after all those years he finally knew.

"I will do it," he said soundlessly, wondering how she could believe him if he was not telling the truth?

Oddly, her impersonal smile did not hurt him, and when he at last turned around he could even look at her without pain circulating in his veins like steaming poison.

He stood motionlessly after she had left, the white sand under his boots somehow reflecting the sun above.

Catching a glimpse of his claw-like hand he slowly raised it to the level of his face and looked at it with his eyes widening at the sight.

The claw began to shrink until it broke into pieces with a mute, dry sound, dark shells falling onto the sand, leaving in front of his eyes only his hand, slightly wrinkled and scratched, yellowed and scarred – but undeniably human.

* * *

Elizabeth carefully disentangled herself from Jack's embrace, and slowly sat up, intending to soundlessly-

"Where are you going, Lizzie?" Jack asked, deftly catching the hem of her shirt with nimble fingers.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I was specifically hoping you wouldn't wake up," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder, leaning backwards until she rested her back against his bent leg.

Jack slightly lifted his head above the pillow. "Ever?"

"Jack!" she narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a thoroughly unamused look.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her palm and smiled.

"I wanted to take a short walk on deck," she said, lowering herself over him and nuzzling his shoulder before falling into his ostentatiously opened arms.

"The last time you had done that I needed ten months to find you," he said under his breath and she sighed out loud.

"Don't make it seem as if everything is falling apart. It's not. It won't. Not now. Not again."

Jack drummed his fingers over Elizabeth's back when she nestled her face into his chest. "Me?" he asked incredulously and smiled when she shifted in his arms refusing to admit she was the one worrying more than it was perhaps necessary.

"When my parents were brought back you said that you felt as if we were starting all over again, from the very beginning, as if all the obstacles were to return."

"But now I'm seeing everything in bright colors. You're the bleak one now, love."

"Not anymore," she countered. "Not after I had that dream."

"Ah." He cupped her face in his hand and lifted it to look at her. She pursed her lips. "As glad as I am that you feel better, I'd highly prefer for you to feel better after dreaming about me, not about my mother."

Elizabeth snorted, tearing his hands off her face and pressing her cheek against his chest. "If it all turns out to be true and we'll find Blaxton tomorrow, I'll ask your mother to teach me how to be a witch."

"Well... wouldn't it be a superfluous request?" Jack observed matter-of-factly. "I think you're nearly there without any guidance-"

Elizabeth kicked him under the bed cover. "Beware."

"I am! Since you shackled me to that mast I'm all awareness," Jack added, catching Elizabeth's hands before she managed to slap him.

"Jack! You promised!-"

He smirked and kissed her. "Pirate!"

* * *

Blaxton woke up in the middle of the night. He could not remember what he had dreamed about. He sat up and blinked a few times before his eyes adjusted to darkness. When they did, he glanced around the room, quickly noticing a human shape in the corner. He squinted, and having recognized the person slid off the bed and tiptoed to Teague to see if his grandpa was really sleeping.

As it turned out he was, and it occurred to Blaxton that his grandpa must have been very uncomfortable sleeping in a chair, his head resting against the wall.

Not really able to move Teague anywhere, Blaxton pulled the cover off his bed and proceeded to drape it over Teague, which wasn't an easy task considering how tall his grandpa was, even when he was seated.

"What are you doing?" A sleepy voice made Blaxton turn around.

Lillian was standing near her room door, rubbing her eyes and looking at him with an unjustified frown.

Despite being rather wary of Lillian's hostility toward him, Blaxton risked hushing her and explaining in a low voice what he was doing. To his surprise, after shifting her eyes between him and Teague Lillian came up to him and nigh wordlessly offered to help him.

When they succeeded in draping the blanket over Teague and even managed to slid a pillow beneath his head, Lillian stepped back and gave Teague a long look. "Is he really your grandpa?" she asked with a frown. Blaxton nodded. "He's scary," she added more indignantly than fearfully, shooting Blaxton a look that seemed to imply that it was somehow Blaxton's fault that his grandpa was scary. "Your name isn't John," Lillian continued, suddenly changing the subject, giving Blaxton no time to cut in. "You're a _liar_," she concluded and marched back to her room.

Blaxton looked after her in confusion for a longer while but then he shrugged his shoulders and climbed back onto the bed, curling up in the middle of it and falling asleep within seconds.

* * *

James rested his head against the edge of the bathtub and closed his eyes, concentrating on simply breathing in and out, the fresh air flowing smoothly into the room through a half-open window.

How many years must have passed since his last bath? He smiled briefly, amused by the idea. The simplicity of the moment seemed difficult to capture and he wondered if he would ever find a way to connect his past with his present, made himself feel that his life was a continuous experience, that he could find a way to blend his memories into his thoughts and not consider his present state as an odd, temporary occurrence removed from the reality.

He felt as if he had already thought about that one time too many. He was tired of being haunted by the same thoughts again and again as if he could not break free from the recurring reconsideration of everything. Perhaps it was not even a new phenomenon. Had not he always reconsidered everything to the most unhelpful extent?

"Such a starry night, isn't it?"

James opened his eyes, moving so suddenly that water splashed over the sides of the tub.

"I've already taken my bath, thank you very much," Celeste said, brushing the drops of water off her shoulder. The sleeves of her dress had slid down a little, leaving her shoulders bare. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, facing the window, her back turned to James, her damp, black hair falling down in wavy locks, nearly touching the water surface.

James stared at her hair and she would have laughed if she could see the dismayed expression on his face. But she kept looking toward the dark window.

"It is," he choked out.

She smiled and finally turned her head, giving him a sidelong look. "Have I startled you?"

James shook his head without much conviction, grateful for the amount of soap he had decided to use that had conveniently made the water opaque. "No, you haven't." He drew a breath. "I mean you have but-" He quickly raised his hand and cupped her cheek causing an amused smirk that had begun to form on her lips fade and she just held his gaze in sudden seriousness.

For a moment all that could be heard was water dripping quietly from his hand onto the floor. Then, she covered his hand with hers and closed her eyes – but opened them again when he said, in a voice firm like the black night and the white stars outside, and shimmering like a myriad of colors:

"I think... I'm _certain_..." He paused, strangely breathless. "I'm in love with you."

Her eyes did not widen and she did not move and the silence made it seem as if the words had never been uttered.

"Why are you telling me this?" she finally asked in a voice so soft that it was hardly audible.

He was caught off guard by the question, feeling dazed from his own confession, confused. "Why am I telling you the truth?" he offered.

She suddenly regarded him with renewed intensity, her eyes sparkling. "The truth," she repeated, trying to appear mildly amused, like usual, but a hint of careful examination remained in the way she looked at him, and the look combined with his current position made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable, and these were the last emotions he wanted to experience at the moment.

With a firm frown he reached out for a towel that was thankfully where he had placed it but once he grabbed it he hesitated what to do. He glanced at Celeste who might have smiled if something serious lingering on the back of her mind was not clouding over her thoughts at the moment. Nonetheless, she turned her head and in a theatrical gesture covered her eyes with her hands.

For some reason, this did not make James feel any better, still, he quickly seized the opportunity to step out of the tub. He hastily brushed the towel over his skin a few times before putting on his breeches and pulling a shirt over his head. Not bothering with cuffs, buttons or even boots he walked quickly around the tub and when Celeste looked at him again he was on one knee, taking her hands in his.

"I love you, Celeste," he said in a low, firm voice and she seemed to freeze but he could not tell if her hands were cold because his own were hot like coals. "It might seem sudden or strange but it is neither. All I know is that I want to share every thought, every breath with you. Would you… do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

It felt like he had traveled across the world several times in the span of a fraction of a second. His own words sounded muffled to him. He could not hear himself speak; he could just hear the words form in his heart, in his mind but he was not sure they could be heard.

Apparently, however, they could, because her face became noticeably pale and she blinked, most gracefully, a few times before... bursting into laughter.

"You'd started well but I'm afraid you got carried away," Celeste said and James did not quite know how he instantly knew that she was merely nervous.

He slightly straightened his neck. "I did not."

"James-"

He stood and pulled her to her feet, her hands still clasped in his.

"This is the first day of my life I didn't plan in advance," he said, looking into her eyes and hoping that it was wariness not sadness that he was seeing there. "Except for my love and care I don't know what I can offer you as I don't know what is left of my life or what is left of me, for that matter," he added with a flicker of a humorless smile. "But I'm certain that much can be restored and I will do whatever will be in my power-"

"James." Celeste wiggled one of her hands out of his grasp and brought it to his face. "Do you even know what you're doing?" she asked in a voice that was suddenly warm and the expression on her face seemed to relax, if only a little. "I'm a very stubborn, disorganized, insolent person." She arched an eyebrow when he smiled.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

She squinted. "I'm in the process of accentuating the most appealing attributes of my personality for you."

He smiled again and pressed a kiss to her lips. "I'm inclined to draw my own conclusions."

She bit back a smirk and anchoring her hand on his shoulder kissed him on the cheek.

"Is that a yes?" he asked in a solemn voice and she rested her forehead against his chin, laughing under her breath.

"Are you going to give me some time to think about it?" she asked, tilting her head backwards and narrowing her eyes at him in an amused smile that he returned even though his heart sank a bit.

"No."

"I see. Well..." she glanced toward the door and then shifted her eyes back to him. "I could walk out of this room insisting on being given some time to ponder the proposal however... " she briefly drummed her fingers over his shoulder. "I actually came here to stay overnight," she said in a casual voice, greatly enjoying the look that appeared on James' face.

"You have most improper thoughts, Mr. Norrington!" she exclaimed in a mockingly scolding tone. "I just... I didn't want to be alone," she added after a pause in a different voice, smiling softly.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her before closing her in a tight embrace. She closed her eyes and for a moment they remained silent until James repeated his question once again, his voice as purely inquiring as before:

"Is that a yes?"

Celeste laughed with her face snuggled against his chest.

* * *

Having knocked on the door, Gibbs walked into the cabin, but as soon as he entered, he stopped in confusion. With his brows furrowed, for a moment he just watched Jack perform strange movements in front of a tall mirror.

"Jack?"

Jack hushed him, his left hand draped over his right shoulder, holding a fistful of dreadlocks, his right hand bent next to his left ear, as he was gathering a dreadlock after dreadlock muttering unintelligible words under his breath.

"Jack?" Gibbs tried again.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Maybe instead of being unhelpful from the distance you will come closer and help?"

Gibbs leaped forward, stopping next to Jack and looking at him in puzzlement as great now that he was close as when he was far. "Jack... what are you doing?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm winning a bet, savvy?"

Gibbs wrinkled his forehead, trying to guess the details on his own but after a moment deciding it was not possible. "A bet?"

"Are you going to help?" Jack asked, annoyed.

"Help with what?" Gibbs inquired, nonplussed.

"In counting the dreadlocks!..." Jack said through his teeth.

Gibbs' face brightened at an instant and he was about to laugh but having noticed the look on Jack's face he just cleared his throat and straightened up. "Aye!"

* * *

"Mother? Father?" Elizabeth knocked on the door a few times but received no answer. She had been on deck and in the galley not long ago and she had not seen her parents anywhere so she assumed-

The door suddenly opened and Christelle gave Elizabeth a bright yet slightly strained smile. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

"Good morning, Mother," Elizabeth replied, confused by something she could not pinpoint until Christelle tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and only then Elizabeth noticed that her mother's hair were in quizzical disarray, her dress curiously only half-laced. "I just wanted to tell you that we'll be going ashore soon. Do you wish to join us?"

"Of course! We'll be on deck shortly," Christelle reassured her and they exchanged a couple of happy, awkward smiles before the door closed and Elizabeth walked away, beginning to understand how her father must have felt when he had walked in on her and Jack.

Snorting under her breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and quickened her steps.

* * *

"The _Gold Teliza_ too?" Blaxton widened his eyes at Teague, almost dropping the spoon he was holding.

"Aye. Lost but not lost forever," Teague said with a wink.

Lillian glanced at them, regarding them and her breakfast with equal condescension.

"But..." Blaxton shifted in his seat, a worried frown creeping onto his face. "How do we find Mum and Dad if we don't have a ship?"

"We can always commandeer one." Everybody's eyes shifted to Will who joined them at the table. "Good day."

"Good day," Teague answered slowly.

"I don't like this," Lillian said, pursing her lips, apparently considering Will the only one worth complaining to.

"What is this?" Will inquired, glancing at her plate.

Lillian shrugged.

"It's very good," Blaxton countered, sincerely surprised by her assessment.

Lillian shot him a grim look. "No, it's not!"

"Alright," Will cut in with a small smile. He looked away from them, looking around in search of a barmaid. "Perhaps-" he stopped in mid-sentence, caught off guard by the sight.

Blaxton, quickly noticing that something was amiss, turned around to follow Will's gaze... and his eyes widened almost to the point of no return.

He jumped from his seat, tripping over his own and Teague's feet in the process but immediately scrambling back to his feet and beginning to run as fast as he could.

* * *

"If you won't tell me what number did you arrive at how can I know that you won?" Elizabeth questioned, lacing her hand through Jack's arm.

Christelle and Weatherby followed close behind, smiling at each other from time to time. Gibbs threaded behind them, trying to remember how to get to an inn he had stayed in a couple of years ago.

"You need to say it first, so I can see if I'm right or wrong," Jack insisted, twitching his nose as they walked into a tavern.

"I will tell you if you're right or wrong."

Jack snorted.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "I counted your dreadlocks first, so it's only fair for me to hear your answer first."

"Just on the contrary, love. Since you were the one who counted the dreadlocks, it's only right if you'll be the first one to say the number out loud."

"If I say the number out loud how will I know that you have counted the dreadlocks yourself? You may as well just repeat what I say."

Jack widened his eyes at her, looking offended. "If my sense of honor is to you not credible enough, I can call upon a witness. Mr. Gibbs!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Two pirates instead of one," she muttered with an exaggerated sigh. "That's very helpful indeed." She looked away and stopped in her tracks so suddenly that Jack nearly tripped.

"Mum! ! !"


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: *shifty eyes* Is anybody here? Still? ^^ I'm so sorry for not updating in such a long time. I'm afraid RL has taken over my life... if that makes sense lol But it is my sincere intention to finish this story, no matter what. Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews & I hope that you'll stick with me despite my pathetic updating speed ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own _PotC_.

**Chapter 26**

"_Mum! ! ! ! ! ! !"_

Elizabeth barely had the time to understand what was happening. The exhilarating exclamation was immediately followed by a quick take off and joyous landing in her arms, and it was only for her parents standing right behind her that she and Blaxton did not fall to the floor from the impact of the happy greeting.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Elizabeth asked in a voice that she desperately tried to keep from cracking, hugging her son and rejoicing in the fact of being nearly strangled by his arms locked around her neck as tightly as possible.

The question, however, caused Blaxton to slightly draw back. "Of course I am!" he exclaimed with the slightest hint of offense in his voice.

Elizabeth laughed, blinking back the tears.

"Now, that was the best jump I have ever seen," Jack observed matter-of-factly, a smile hovering over his face as he watched the scene.

Blaxton beamed. "Dad!" With a happy grin, he climbed over into Jack's arms.

But instead of giving him a hug Jack tilted his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at him asked: "Where is your hat, sailor?"

Apparently, the question caught Blaxton off guard because the smile vanished from his face, his eyes widening in sudden dismay.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, wiping the tears off her face. "Jack!" she said in a scolding voice. "We'll get new hats for everyone tomorrow," she added for Blaxton's benefit.

Jack placed Blaxton on his own feet, and the boy's attention was quickly redirected to his grandparents and

"Uncle Gibbs!"

"Your mother should disown you for not believing her," Elizabeth whispered to Jack, squinting.

Instead of pouting, as he would have, had the circumstances been different he gave Elizabeth a small smile, pulled her into his arms and whispered something into her ear. She snorted under her breath and buried her face into his shoulder.

* * *

James glanced at the window where the sun was already high in the sky, casting bright shadows over the dusty floor. He propped his head on his elbow and looked back at what he was watching for the better part of the night: Celeste's face.

She slept peacefully for the entire night, rarely even stirring. He was afraid to even stroke her hair in order not to wake her. They had exchanged merely a few sentences before she had fallen asleep and even though he felt quite tired himself he thought it would be better to stay awake just in case Celeste would wake or need waking because of a bad dream.

He lowered his head onto the pillow, outlining the contour of her lips with his eyes, imagining a life he was uncertain was even possible to have, suddenly realizing that his ideals remained intact, and that he might actually know very little of _reality_. In fact, he was not sure he knew exactly what it was.

The first time he had fallen in love it was vague and unreal and never really led to anything but dreams – shattered before becoming tainted with disappointment. For some reason he had not considered a rejection an equivalent of disappointment… He had merely considered it an unfulfilled dream.

The second time his trust had been breached. No one had understood. Especially her. Life was just a carefully crafted contract, wasn't it? Yet, he had refused to acknowledge the fact that the world had failed him. He had believed that somehow he had failed the world. Another unfulfilled dream.

Elizabeth was an unexpected miracle. So close for a long time, yet, it was mere months before their destinies had gone awry that he had found himself in love with her. He had not known when it had happened, that sudden fairy tale. She was so unreal in her elusive liveliness. That day in the fort could have been the beginning of a new, beautiful life, even though he had noticed his mistake much later. What he had loved was an illusion - because he had greatly underestimated Elizabeth's own illusions that she had wished to chase.

Only now, however, he understood that he was right all along and that there were no illusions and no disappointments. Everything was possible. Anything could happen.

Celeste sighed in her sleep, and James brought his face closer to hers.

And every dream could come true.

* * *

"That's my favorite one!..." Jack complained in a hushed voice when Elizabeth unceremoniously used his sash to dry her tears.

"That's your only one," Elizabeth snapped, letting go of the sash and tucking her hair behind her ears, regaining her composure in order not to lose the remnants of her pirate image in Blaxton's eyes.

"That's why it's my favorite one," Jack insisted.

Elizabeth bit back a smile, and was about to retort when the expression on her face suddenly changed. Jack frowned, quickly turning on his hills.

"I hope you didn't lose my ship," Teague said in a low, humming voice but Jack and Elizabeth (not entirely unconsciously…) ignored the comment, preoccupied by the more unexpected sight.

Will raised his eyebrows, trying to seem amused by their reaction even though he was quite startled himself. After several years memories faded but the reality revitalized them with overwhelming speed and he clandestinely stole for breath.

"Will," Elizabeth said in that strange voice that for a brief but very unpleasant moment threw Jack back to Isla Cruces.

"Elizabeth," Will said, not quite knowing what to say.

"And the young miss is, I believe, Lillian," Teague cut in, glancing at the little girl who was half-hiding behind Will. "Now we're all well acquainted," he added with a glint of humor in his eyes that made Jack twitch his nose in annoyance even though he did not even spare Teague a glance.

"What an odd coincidence," Jack said, squinting.

"My sentiments exactly," Will answered immediately, tearing his eyes off Elizabeth to look at Jack, whose expression changed upon noticing something new in Will's eyes, something that was not there before - the burden of years but not of years alone; the burden of difficult years and of lingering pain.

"Dad!" Blaxton ran from Weatherby, Christelle, and Gibbs back to his parents when he noticed that Teague, Will, and Lillian had approached them. "Will is not a soprano!" he said, considering it important to correct the apparent mistake as quickly as possible. Elizabeth glanced at Jack. "He's a blacksmith!"

"Is he?" Jack asked in a slightly high-pitched voice, putting on the best surprised look he could muster. "I must have... mistaken him with the other Will Turner," he added, narrowing his eyes in a strained smile.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, the one that sprung you from jail?" Will asked, before Blaxton had the time to ask about the other Will Turner himself.

Jack put a finger to his chin, his eyebrows knitting in thought. "No... the one that made a deal with Sao Feng and wanted to steal my ship!" he added cheerfully.

"I see," Will acknowledged with perfect indifference. "I just thought you meant the one that rescued you from the gallows."

"That one?" Jack widened his eyes at him "No," he said dismissively. "I was rather thinking about the one that staged somebody's death to clandestinely kidnap said person," he added in a decidedly less amused tone, a spark of dark seriousness flashing in his eyes.

Blaxton slightly tugged on Elizabeth's sleeve, and when she leaned toward him, he asked in a whisper, wrinkling his forehead in confusion: "Mum, how many Will Turners are there?"

"Maybe you could go wake you grandmother," Teague addressed Blaxton, immediately attracting Jack's attention.

"Mum's here?"

"And Uncle James!" Blaxton added.

"_Uncle_ James?" Jack echoed. "How long it's been since that storm?"

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"I'll go tell Grandma you're here," Blaxton offered, and Jack was about to go with him but Elizabeth stopped him.

"I'll go with Blaxton," she said, taking Blaxton's hand in hers. When she walked past Jack she leaned toward him and said quietly. "While you stay here and perhaps manage to diplomatically extract vital pieces of information from certain people."

Jack frowned slightly at the prospect but stayed nonetheless, and after watching Blaxton and Elizabeth walk away toward the stairs he said:

"Do you still happen to have Bill's dagger with you?"

Will blinked.

"Didn't Elizabeth say _diplomatically_?" Governor Swann asked Christelle in a low voice but loud enough for Jack to hear.

Gibbs stifled a chuckle.

"Honesty saves time," Jack said with an artificially smug smile, glancing at Weatherby over his shoulder.

"I beg to differ," Will observed with a hint of bitterness in his voice, looking away.

"Now, there is a story there, eh?" Jack said and Will darted his eyes to him, silently weighing his options, hesitating between walking away, being back on his way and trying to seek help from people whom, after all that had happened, he was not sure how to call. _Acquaintances? Enemies?_

His hand shivered slightly at the sudden reminiscence of rain pouring down in torrents, a hand closing his own, limp hand around a broken sword that pierced Jones' heart and Elizabeth's breath so hot against his cold cheek.

_Friends?_

"What is it sweetheart?" Elizabeth asked, stopping in her tracks when Blaxton suddenly fell silent in the midst of telling her most vigorously about the storm, about drifting on a piece of wood, being hoisted up on deck of a ship, introducing himself as John and properly hiding his true identity, about meeting Will, about Lillian…

Blaxton dropped his eyes to the floor and Elizabeth half-knelt in front of him, looking at him worriedly.

"Could we bring Lillian's parents back?" he asked, looking back at Elizabeth and she felt cold shivers run down her spine at the sad look in his eyes.

"Did they…"

"Some…" Blaxton drew a breath. "They burned the ship and-"

"Who?" Elizabeth asked mechanically, almost immediately regretting the question.

Blaxton looked at her strangely, not saying anything for a while. "What do pirates do?" he finally asked in such a grim voice that it flooded over Elizabeth's like a dark wave.

"What… we do?" she half-stammered, trying to understand what he meant before he would explain it more clearly.

Blaxton fidgeted uncomfortably. "What do _pirates_ do?"

Elizabeth was not sure how but she suddenly understood what he was asking.

"Some pirates burn ships and… hurt people," she said in a barely audible, hollow voice, squeezing Blaxton's hands in hers. "But not all pirates do that. It's not what we do."

"I know," Blaxton said, and the way he said it made Elizabeth feel as if he was suddenly a few years older than he was when she had last seen him. "But why _some_ pirates do that?"

Elizabeth drew a breath, glancing around the corridor as if in search of an answer.

"Elizabeth!"

Her eyes darted to James who had just walked out of one of the rooms.

"James!" Elizabeth rose to her feet, ashamed for being so grateful that the difficult conversation was going to be postponed.

"How did you find us so promptly?" James asked and Elizabeth was not sure if she really saw or only imagined that his face seemed more relaxed and his eyes brighter than usual.

"James, you forgot-" Celeste, scantily clothed and barefooted, stopped in mid-sentence at the sight of Elizabeth and Blaxton.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, if only slightly.

"Mum, Dad, Grandma Christelle, Grandpa Weatherby, and Uncle Gibbs are all here!" Blaxton announced with a smile.

"That's wonderful!" Celeste said, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I think we'll just wait for you downstairs," Elizabeth said with a small smile, taking Blaxton by the hand and stiffly turning toward the stairs.

Celeste and James exchanged a look.

"Elizabeth," Celeste quickly tiptoed to Elizabeth when she turned around. "Don't tell Jack just yet-" she started in a low voice, her eyes sparkling in slight amusement.

"Oh, I'm most certainly the last person on earth that would want to tell him about that," Elizabeth cut in and to Blaxton's puzzlement and James' embarrassment at the entire situation, both Celeste and Elizabeth laughed under their breath.

* * *

"What do you need my dagger for?" Will asked, looking at Jack across the table.

"You didn't tell me what you needed my compass for when you demanded it," Jack retorted, squinting.

Will looked at him for a moment in silence. "Recalling such ancient stories is hardly relevant," he said at last, his eyes fixed on Jack who seemed disappointed by the reply. "And I did tell you what I needed it for," Will added in a low, grim voice.

"But you didn't say who had sent you to get it," Jack argued.

Gibbs shook his head. "Davy Jones has been brought back from the dead," he cut in, his voice serious.

Jack shot Gibbs an exaggeratedly wide-eyed look.

Will wrinkled his forehead in bewilderment. "What?"

"If that makes you feel better he holds more grudges against me than against you," Jack said, flashing him a smile.

Will shifted his eyes to him, looking thoroughly _not_ amused. "He wants the _Flying Dutchman_ back?"

Jack snorted. "Holding onto the bright side might prove helpful," he said, raising his mug of rum to his lips.

"What does he want?"

"Revenge, immortality, you name it."

"That's not very precise," Will said, almost disinterestedly.

Jack tilted back his head, giving him a questioning look. "Precise?"

"I have no time for chasing after your unsettled debts anymore," Will said sharply, looking away as if he was about to leave.

"That's not what I meant," Jack said, watching him carefully.

Will nodded absently. "So what do you mean?"

But before Jack had the time to answer, the tavern's doors burst open and soldiers flooded inside.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I think I'll spare you another pointless apology & just thank you for all the wonderful reviews & for reminding me that I'm ought to continue writing this story ;)

Also, I don't know how you'll feel about this but I decided to include a new character (as if this story wasn't crowded enough lol). However, I'm not going to worry too much about the upcoming canon & instead just mix the general character idea with some bits of Jack (& Teague) backstory that I hinted at in _HWMB?_. We'll see how this works :)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 27**

Only when his eyes were drawn toward the door, it suddenly registered in Will's mind that Governor Swann's presence was nigh inexplicable, as well as the presence of the woman next to him, her face vaguely familiar as he recalled seeing a small portrait of her, safely tucked between tattered pages of Elizabeth's favorite book.

But before he could start dwelling on the strange occurrence he had to tend to the matter at hand. He glanced at Lillian and hesitated for just a second before quickly excusing his next move by reassuring himself that he was leaving the child in the company of people who would not let anything bad happen to her.

Then, to Jack's bewilderment, Will disappeared into the commotion.

Jack exchanged a look with Gibbs and frowned, wondering how he would explain to Elizabeth the fact that he let the dagger of water and fire flee like that.

"Shouldn't we also-" Christelle began, looking worriedly at the soldiers who formed a circle, in the middle of the tavern and at the man who jumped on a stool and then stepped onto the table, and raising a piece of paper for everyone to see.

"Do I look like that?" Jack asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting in distaste at the drawing.

"After a particularly long night…" Gibbs offered with a small shrug.

* * *

"What's that noise?" Celeste asked, listening intently to the sounds coming from below.

"It's the Royal Navy," Blaxton said expertly, looking through the banister.

"Again?" Elizabeth muttered, annoyed, leaning over the banister as well, her eyes searching the crowd.

"Is there any reason why we shouldn't resort to running?" James asked matter-of-factly, gently pulling both Celeste and Elizabeth away from the banister.

"Except the necessity to fetch those who are downstairs?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him.

James looked between Celeste and Elizabeth and sighed.

* * *

"Jack Sparrow."

The lieutenant slowly made his way toward Jack, the strangely prolonged scene raising Jack's suspicions even higher. The puzzling sense of everything that had been happening lately being planned in advance with ominous precision was truly unnerving and it made every possibility seem bleak by default.

"Captain," Governor Swann said with a small frown after being prompted to do so by a small tug on his sleeve. Christelle shot him a happy smile that made the frown disappear.

Jack blinked, so surprised by the source of the correction that he even shifted his gaze away from the approaching soldiers.

"You are under arrest," the lieutenant announced, only mildly annoyed, drawing Jack's attention back to him.

"On what charges?" Christelle demanded, her hand laced through her husband's arm and Jack could not help being under the impression that Elizabeth's parents seemed to be acting as if they had authority to do anything they wanted just because they were right and they seemed to believe that as long as they were right nothing bad could happen to them. While Jack could understand Christelle feeling that way, Governor Swann should really know better after everything he had been through. Somehow though, his wife's presence appeared to have altered his memories and made him once again prone to expecting the better rather than the worse.

A grim look flitted across Gibbs' face upon noticing that the question visibly pleased the lieutenant who without further encouragement announced to everyone within the hearing range that the charge was _murder_ of the newly appointed Governor of Port Royal, his wife and daughter and forty other men and women on board the ship that _Captain_ Jack Sparrow and his _merciless_ crew had set on fire.

* * *

The street was moderately busy, and the sunlight caught Will off guard. He almost forgot it was merely a beginning of a new day for he already felt as if it was the end of it, the decision he had made weighing heavily on his conscience.

It was true he had more than enough of his own problems, however, he could not get rid of the impression that his recent behavior was somehow taking him even further away from his past self, from that version of him he missed every time he did something he did not quite want to do or did not quite believe in.

Brushing away the nagging thoughts, he ran into the street, causing a carriage to stop in front of him, startled horses making enough noise to catch the attention of several soldiers standing on the other side of the street, observing the tavern's door.

The coachman tumbled to the ground, and Will jumped over him on his way to the carriage. Unexpectedly, his foot was caught in a firm grip and he tripped to the ground as well, hitting his head in the process.

"What do you think you're doing?" A very irritated female voice reached his ears as he quickly stumbled to his feet and swirled around only to come face to face with a pair of fiery eyes and a pistol pointed at him.

He hesitated for just a moment before pulling out his sword. It must have been his luck to come across a woman while trying to steal a carriage.

"I'm taking over the carriage," he said with as much authority in his voice as he could muster, hoping that she did not mean to fight him, even though she looked anything but fearful in dirty coachman attire, black hair escaping from under a dark hat.

To his disappointment, the woman snorted and lurched forward, the blade of her sword drawing a shallow mark across his cheek.

"Will!"

* * *

"What is going on here?" James asked in a loud, steady voice, approaching the gathering with Elizabeth on his side.

Jack shot Elizabeth a stern look that she ignored.

"Who are you?" The lieutenant eyed James suspiciously, his features becoming tense for just a second until he relaxed upon noticing the apparent insignificance of the newcomers.

"The charges are false and the accusations unfounded," Governor Swann said loudly with an impatient sigh.

Having disregarded his former interruptions, this time the lieutenant did turn toward the Governor, and addressing the soldiers next to him, his eyes fixed on Weatherby, he muttered in a dark and careless voice: "Arrest him."

Christelle's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest as she was pulled aside, the soldiers proceeding to handcuff the Governor.

"We haven't done anything wrong!" Elizabeth exclaimed indignantly, glaring daggers at the lieutenant who seemed amused by the statement.

"We? So you're a part of this as well?" The man raised his brows. "Arrest her."

"May I see the orders?" James cut in, extending his hand to shield Elizabeth.

The lieutenant barked a laugh. "And who are you to demand the privilege of seeing them?"

"I'm not sure they are of any merit," Jack observed, squinting, and carefully pulling Elizabeth behind him, so that James' hand was left shielding nothing.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

The lieutenant stepped closer to James but before he said anything, a scream pierced the air and everyone looked at Lillian who for an unknown reason started to scream so loud that for a moment everything else ceased to matter.

"I'd have never thought of that," Jack said, exchanging a quick look with Gibbs, who did not need to be told twice; he pulled out his pistol, reintroducing the former commotion.

"Split!" James bellowed above the noise, hoisting Lillian up in his arms.

Everyone dispersed in different directions, except for Elizabeth's parents who stayed together and…

"You're beginning to annoy me," Elizabeth muttered when Jack caught her hand as soon as he noticed that she was about to head in the opposite direction.

Smirking, Jack brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

When they turned around the corner, Jack suddenly stopped running and pulled Elizabeth into his arms. Holding her gaze, he inched his lips closer to hers.

"It's hardly the best-"

"Is it?" Jack raised an eyebrow, drawing back after kissing her.

Elizabeth laughed under her breath. "You're mad," she whispered and kissed him.

Every time she tried to break the kiss he would kiss her again and they drew apart only when it was no longer possible for either of them to breathe. For longer than it was probably sensible, they just stood motionlessly with their lips touching.

"I think we should continue being in a hurry," Elizabeth whispered, opening her eyes.

Jack slid his fingers into her hair and cupped her face in his palms. "Everything that I've been doing these past few years… I've been doing because I love you, Lizzie," he said in a suddenly very solemn, low voice, looking into her eyes.

She looked at him but a soft smile on her face was quickly replaced by a frown as she looked past him, her eyebrows knitted in thought.

Jack glanced around, puzzled. "What is it?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm just trying to understand the connection between loving me and drinking rum," she said in all seriousness.

Jack blinked and then rolled his eyes, and taking her hand in his sprinted forward.

"Where is Blaxton?" he asked when they got outside, the blazing sun causing them both to squint.

"I asked your mother to take him out of the tavern when we noticed what was happening," Elizabeth said looking around, still chuckling under her breath.

* * *

"Are we taking this carriage?" Blaxton asked, looking between Will and the carriage.

"I'm sorry, lad, but that's my carriage," the dark-haired woman snapped, sword still in her hand. "Your friend tried to steal it," she added plainly, narrowing her eyes at Will who wondered if it was possible for him to feel even more embarrassed. He was just glad that the woman did not know he had tried to escape alone, for she would have undoubtedly made it known to Blaxton and Jack's mother.

"Can we borrow it?" Blaxton asked, undeterred, the question apparently catching the woman off guard.

"It would be very helpful if we could," Celeste joined in.

"I'm afraid I can't afford any further delay," the woman retorted, returning her sword to its sheath and climbing onto the carriage.

A few people near them stopped in their tracks, watching dozen of soldiers burst out of the tavern.

"Let's go," Celeste said, grasping Blaxton's hand, and looking around to see where they could go to hide for a little while but before they went anywhere, Jack and Elizabeth came into view.

"There you are, sailor."

Blaxton turned around at the sound of Jack's voice, beaming. "Mum! Dad!"

Will sighed, brushing the bloody mark left by the woman's sword with the back of his hand.

"Will wanted to borrow the carriage-" Blaxton started but, to everyone's surprise was interrupted by the dark-haired woman.

"Jack?"

Elizabeth, who only then noticed the woman, arched an eyebrow. "I almost thought it wouldn't happen this time," she said quietly.

Jack opened his mouth to protest but the woman stepped down from the carriage and took off her hat, shaking her long, black hair free. "The world is smaller than that ship you stole from me," she said with a not entirely humorous smile.

"Who is she?" Elizabeth asked in a low voice, not even looking at Jack.

"I have no idea," Jack whispered back.

"The rumors have it you found the Fountain of Youth," the woman said, looking Jack up and down. "Yet, you don't quite look as if you did," she added challengingly with a mischievous smirk.

Jack narrowed his eyes in a smile. "Keeping up appearances, so to speak."

"Are you certain you don't know who she is?" Elizabeth asked quietly in an icy tone that Jack knew could bode only ill.

"I can't even remember her name," he muttered in a low voice, and for a split second there was a chance Elizabeth would actually believe him.

"Do you still have that tattoo with my name on your back?" The woman asked, cocking her head to the side.

Jack blinked uncomfortably, slightly stiffening at Elizabeth's question that she asked in a calm, steely whisper:

"Do you want me to read it for you, then?"

"Does it mean we may borrow the carriage?" Will cut in a loud voice, smiling when everyone looked at him.

"I guess you may," the woman said, the words earning her a long look from Celeste.

Will quickly jumped onto the carriage and when he did, another carriage swished next to them.

"It looks like not only you thought of that," Celeste said conversationally, taking the last coachman's place next to Will, as Jack, Elizabeth, and Blaxton hurriedly stepped into the carriage.

Will drew a breath. "Yes," he said absently.

"They are alive," Celeste said so quietly, only he could hear her even though the dark-haired woman had just jumped onto the seat next to them.

Will's eyes darted to Celeste in silent astonishment but she only smiled and looked away.

* * *

He stood on the deck of the _Black Pearl_, watching the _Empress_ burn, the sound of crackling wood bringing back strange memories of the invisible downfall of his soul marked by superfluous disasters with which he tried to heal his own wounds.

He watched the crew trying to douse the fire but to no avail. Hopelessness – how often he was a willing witness to it, as if inflicting pain could make the pain already inflicted hurt less.

Blinking back, his eyes were stinging from smoke that was surrounding him like a veil while another veil was being lifted. For so many years he had wished for this to happen, but it had taken years of existence that resembled nothing but death and finally his death for this to change to actually take place in his absent heart.

There was no clear reason he could think of; just like there had been no reason he could name when he had seen her for the first time, her dark eyes glimmering in the setting sun like the only stars in the entire, silent universe.

Running his hand across the wooden rail of the _Black Pearl_, Davy Jones narrowed his eyes, glancing briefly at his hand, his human hand he had not seen in so long. Was it really her who had lifted the curse?

Or was it him, not loving her anymore?

Burning pieces of wood were floating on the blue water surface like his dark thoughts, drowning in something larger and calmer than the sea.

Being with her was no longer a prize alluring enough but his heart was somewhere at the bottom of the ocean and she was the only one who could return it to him.

Wasn't she?

* * *

Throughout the carriage ride Elizabeth made a point of ignoring Jack's comments and questions, talking and listening only to Blaxton who was trying to help Jack by repeating his words to Elizabeth (thinking that his mum must have simply been unable to hear dad's words because of the noise around them) but to little effect.

After a few pleading and a few impatient looks that Elizabeth ignored as well, Jack, who was sitting across from her and Blaxton, hastily got up and slumped onto the seat next to her.

"I'd expect you to know my back well enough, love, to _know_ she was bluffing," Jack whispered into Elizabeth's ear, and then rested his chin on her shoulder peering at the side of her face.

Elizabeth did seem to ponder his words even though she did not look at him. The carriage jolted and Jack tumbled to the floor.

"You deserved that," Elizabeth mouthed the words to Jack while Blaxton was helping him to stand up.

"No, I didn't," Jack mouthed back, pouting.

"I _will _verify that," Elizabeth said out loud, squinting.

* * *

Governor Swann and Christelle glanced worriedly at Gibbs who stood frozen to the spot, staring at what was left of his ship with disbelief written all over his face.

He had seen burning ships before and the image of the _Black Pearl_ being set on fire was etched into his heart even if he had not actually seen it happen, however, this was something entirely different. Seeing his own ship, the ship he was a captain of for almost six years burn made him feel strange and cold and very lonely, all of a sudden.

"The Navy," James said in such a tone, as if he had never been associated with anything that was hidden behind the word. He wanted to gently place Lillian back on her own feet but when she glanced over her shoulder and saw the flames surrounding the_ Empress_, she threw her arms around James' neck and buried her face in his shoulder with such a heartbreakingly mute sob that he quickly changed his mind, and just continued holding her, not really knowing if he should say something or not.

"They would've rather burnt the _Pearl_," Teague's humming voice drifted to them, and only then everyone noticed his presence.

Christelle and Weatherby exchanged a look, wondering how Teague had got here in the first place, since he had not been with them in the carriage but the question seemed insignificant in comparison with everything else that had happened and was still happening. Moreover, their attention was quickly redirected to the carriage that halted next to the one they had used to reach the docks, and Christelle ran toward Elizabeth as soon as she saw her.

"Everyone is safe," Christelle said smilingly, embracing Elizabeth.

"This may change rather rapidly," said the dark-haired woman, jumping off the carriage, and eyeing the_ Empress_.

Jack frowned, his eyes shifting to Gibbs who sighed, turning toward them.

"We still have the _Pearl_," Jack said, looking at Gibbs who slowly nodded.

"Oh, that's very good. I thought that in addition to stealing my carriage you'd also wish to steal my ship," the woman said sharply, her eyes skimming over Teague with forced indifference.

"I wonder what would have been this carriage's original owner's take on all this," Will observed dryly, walking past her.

She half-turned, looking after him.

"Are you alright?" James asked quietly, reaching out with his free hand to help Celeste step down from the carriage, holding sobbing Lillian with his other arm.

"I am now," Celeste whispered, deliberately stumbling to furtively brush her lips over his cheek.

James squeezed her hand and she smiled.

"I'd take you up on this offer, darling," Teague said, coming to stand next to Jack who gave him a questioning look.

Elizabeth looked between Teague and the dark-haired woman who turned toward them.

"It'd be better if you all sailed away on an unknown ship," Teague explained slowly. "I'll take the _Pearl_," he added, darting his grim gaze to the sea.

Jack shook his head so quickly, his trinkets bounced against Elizabeth's cheek. "It's a no as far as I'm concerned."

"My ship is far from unknown, Teague," the dark-haired woman said in a firm, slightly harsh tone.

Celeste's eyes flashed to the woman.

"Am I the only one who wants to make out of this alive?" Will broke into the conversation.

"They will pursue us regardless of the ship we're on," Elizabeth observed carefully.

"I'm not worrying about the Navy, Elizabeth," Teague said gently, looking her in the eyes.

"What is he worrying about?" Jack asked under his breath, tilting his head toward Elizabeth.

"Davy Jones," Elizabeth said with an impatient huff. "I told you what he had told me," she whispered through her teeth.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Do you remember how we traded rings, Lizzie?" he asked very quietly. Elizabeth bit her lip, stifling a smile. "Now we could trade parents. I'll take yours and you can have Teague."

Elizabeth shot him an amused look and then looked away. "What about your mother and-" She stopped abruptly in mid-sentence.

"My mother _and_…?" Jack's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Elizabeth shrugged but this only confused Jack more.

"Mum!" Blaxton tugged on Elizabeth's hand and she could not be more grateful for the interruption.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

But Blaxton did not need to answer the question for her to notice the approaching crowd of soldiers.

Jack was about protest, having no intention of letting Teague sail away with the _Black Pearl_ on his own but as it turned out, any effort on his part in this respect was unnecessary.

All of a sudden, right in front of their eyes _Queen Anne's Revenge_ burst into flames, leaving the _Black Pearl_ an only ship they all could board.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! & I'm sorry it's been a month again *sigh* But this chapter is rather long, so hopefully the length will make up for the wait ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 28**

Gibbs looked up when Blaxton walked into the galley carrying, very carefully, a bottle of rum in his hands.

"Mum said it's the best rum," Blaxton explained, placing the bottle on the table in front of Gibbs who chuckled weakly under his breath.

He thanked Blaxton with a smile, and reached for the bottle.

"Mum said," Blaxton continued, taking a seat across from Gibbs, "that Dad would shoot anyone who tried to drink it." Gibbs' hand was left suspended in the air as he gave Blaxton a questioning look, "But it's alright for you to drink it because we won't tell Dad it was you who drank it," Blaxton concluded reassuringly, making Gibbs smile.

For a moment, Joshamee looked at the bottle in silence, his face growing serious again. "_The_ _Empress_… It was my ship but it was also a gift. Your mum gave her to me, you know," he sighed. "I felt responsible for that ship on my own but also on her behalf."

"It's not your fault that somebody burnt the ship," Blaxton observed matter-of-factly, resting his chin on his folded arms propped on the table.

Gibbs smiled faintly. "Well, sometimes guilt has nothing to do with fault."

* * *

"We need to-" Elizabeth started but stopped abruptly in mid-sentence at the sight of Jack closing the door behind them with his foot, and proceeding to taking off his clothes. "Jack, what are you doing?" she asked in that seemingly detached, demanding tone that Jack always found intimidating, and worse still he was quite certain that Elizabeth was using that particular tone on purpose, knowing how it made him feel.

Jack paused, his face hidden behind the shirt he had started pulling over his head. "If I remember correctly, love, you wanted to verify-"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Elizabeth interrupted him huffing in exasperation, crossing the room, and pulling a map out of one of the drawers.

Jack pushed his shirt back down and looked after her with a hurt expression on his face.

"We have to decide what to do," Elizabeth continued, unfurling the map over the table. "Are you going to do something other than pouting?" she asked, without even sparing him a glance.

"This is no way to talk to a Captain, love," Jack said in a low, dark voice, squinting.

"As a Captain I refuse to feel intimidated by this statement," Elizabeth retorted, biting back a smile, her eyes on the map.

Jack sauntered toward her, circled the table and stopped behind her. "It was not a threat; merely a fair warning," he whispered, his hands resting heavily on her shoulders before sliding down her arms and then moving to her hips.

Elizabeth tilted her head backwards, leaning it against Jack's shoulder. He pressed his lips to her cheek. "You do know you're just getting yourself into more trouble?" she questioned when he started trailing soft kisses across her neck.

Jack's eyebrows knitted in confusion as he glanced up at her. "How is that?" he asked, sincerely perplexed.

"If you think you can distract me from further inquiries concerning the newest addition to our crew, you couldn't be more wrong," Elizabeth said in a low voice, turning her head so her cheek was pressed to his shoulder, her eyes fixed on his face. "What's her name? Who is she? And don't tell me that you don't remember," she added through her teeth.

Jack sighed; twice. "Her name is Angelica but it's the most misleading name, I assure you." Elizabeth still looked at him, her jaw set. Jack's eyes lit up, a shadow of a mischievous smile flickering across his face. "Being jealous of the people I was acquainted with while you were learning to spell your name, love, is hardly sensible but I'm far from complaining if it means your intensified attention."

"My attention is now elsewhere," Elizabeth said distinctly, pushing his hands off her. "But I still intend to learn the whole story." She turned around. "However, I assure you that I have more reliable sources of information than your treacherous," she trailed off and standing on her tiptoes whispered against his lips, "_mouth_." And with that she turned on her heels and marched out of the cabin with the map in her hands.

Jack was about to follow her, but then something screeching and colorful flashed right in front of his face almost causing him to lose his balance.

Feather-holder sat on a table, tilting its head and regarding Jack with black, glimmering eyes.

Jack glanced right and left, up and down, and back at the bird. "How did you get here?" he asked at last, eyebrows furrowed.

The parrot fluttered its wings with apparent indifference before announcing defiantly: "Yo ho."

Jack rolled his eyes, and headed out of the cabin, muttering under his breath.

* * *

"Now we're trapped here," James said, his eyebrows knitted as he watched the crew preparing the ship to set sail.

"Do we have a choice at this point other that to be where we can be and fight if need arises?"

James turned to Celeste with a small smile, his eyes bright. "I don't believe in fair battles anymore. It's always a scheme, whether designed by a human or divine hand."

She returned his smile, coming closer to the rail and slowly, carefully placing her hand over his.

"Is that a yes?" James asked all of a sudden, before she managed to say anything.

Celeste blinked but her confusion lasted only for a second before she laughed briefly, shaking her head. "Had anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?"

"I've never been stubborn, Celeste. I'm just always trying to bring to a satisfactory conclusion every project I undertake."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So I'm a _project_ now? Is that flattering in the military language? "

He smiled. "Yes, it was meant to be a compliment but as I tried to make it original I apparently failed in making it beautiful. You are the most demanding and difficult project, Celeste."

"In both of your lifetimes or just this one?" she asked, squinting.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

From afar, Teague's stormy eyes regarded the scene with silence hammering in his ears.

* * *

Because of the delay caused by the parrot, Jack was not able to tell which way Elizabeth had gone. The galley, perhaps? On his way there, he noticed a door left slightly ajar, so he peered inside, his eyes meeting Will's grim gaze.

"You can't expect to be left alone if you leave your door open," Jack said, glancing around the cabin.

"The door wasn't closed but it wasn't open either," Will retorted, raising a mug to his lips.

"Drinking alone is not a good idea, mate."

Will sighed. "It's water that I'm drinking," he said, mildly annoyed, and indeed Jack noticed a pitcher of water sitting on the table.

Jack frowned and to Will's visible discontentment walked in. "Drinking _water_ alone is even worse," he said, studying Will's face with exaggerated wariness before deciding to join him. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, slumping onto a chair across from Will.

Will glanced up at him. "Do you really care?"

"You're ruining my otherwise fine mood with your face scrunched up like that."

"I'm impressed you're able to retain a fine mood with Jones and the entire Royal Navy trying to hunt us down."

"That's hardly news, is it? Unless you have your own reasons to fear them," Jack added after a pause, his eyes fixed on Will's face in sudden seriousness.

Not a muscle in Will's face twitched, and he just stared at his hands closed around a mug in front of him. "I might have crossed paths with someone of significant influence."

Jack moved the pitcher of water toward himself and sniffed it as if checking if it really was water. "Cross paths as in become acquainted with and stay on friendly terms that may benefit you greatly in the future?"

A flicker of a humorless smile passed across Will's face. "Cross paths as in being caught, locked up and press-ganged into service."

Jack blinked. "Sounds familiar but I'm going to pretend you're not being ironic."

Will ignored the comment. "I might have crossed paths with someone who might now be interested in seeing me dead."

Jack waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "If I was to stay clear of everyone who _might_ be interested in seeing me dead, I would have to lock myself up in a chest and bury the chest on a deserted island."

Will shot him a look and then looked back to his mug.

"I see your sense of humor isn't improved much," Jack said and cleared his throat. "Does that person you might have crossed paths with have a name?"

Will hesitated before apparently deciding there was no point in dragging it out for any longer. "It's the King of England."

"The King himself?" Jack merely raised his eyebrows and Will inwardly commended the lack of anything other than matter-of-factness in his voice.

"I came to London on a mission that was supposed to pay well but turned out to be a hoax. I was trying to… borrow a horse to get out of town but I was caught. As it turned out, the horse belonged to the King. I was imprisoned and made an unwise decision to brag, hoping this could win me some respect and perhaps a pardon. Unfortunately, the effect was quite the opposite, and instead of leaving London I was forced to stay as a sword master, a tutor to the King for almost four months until I finally managed to escape."

Jack was silent for a second. "That should be the end of the story, shouldn't it?" he said, narrowing his eyes at him.

Will looked up, his eyes focused, strangely wary and Jack had to admit he did not like the change. It was always such a sad change, sheer, naïve enthusiasm of _I'll die for her_ reduced to measured caution and nigh customary lack of trust.

"I've overheard something I was not supposed to hear."

"It wouldn't matter unless they are in the possession of something they can threaten you with," Jack observed, studying Will's face. Will averted his eyes and said nothing for a longer while, and when he finally spoke his voice was barely audible.

"Before I escaped, I received a letter from my wife." He felt too numbed by the memory to even look at Jack to see his reaction to what he was saying. "The letter was to let me know about the birth of our daughter. But there was also another letter, from a friend of ours, who wished to inform me that my wife had died… But the dates made no sense. My wife's letter seemed to have been written several days after her presumed death."

"Do you think they've been abducted?" Jack asked, and when Will looked at him he was surprised by the look of sincere concern in his eyes. "You didn't make the mistake of-"

"Of course I did," Will cut in exasperatedly. "I thought they would release me if I told them I have a family waiting for me but I was merely allowed to send them a message along with some money."

"Well," Jack said, rising to his feet. "Then you better come to help plotting the course."

Will looked at him but did not move. "It always comes back, doesn't it? Everything we do to others comes back to us."

Jack's forehead wrinkled in thought but only for a moment because the understanding quickly dawned on him. He briefly considered an appropriately snappy comment but then brushed it off. "I hope not," he said instead, his nose twitching.

Will shifted his eyes to him, wondering if it could really be amusement that twinkled in Jack's eyes.

Jack held his gaze for a moment but seeing no change of mood on Will's face he rolled his eyes. "I suggest you'll continue the moral whipping of your sullied conscience once the course is set. Come," he waved his hand in a sweeping gesture and left the cabin.

* * *

Smiling to herself, Celeste ran down the steps and walked briskly across the dim corridor, stopping only when she suddenly heard her name being called in a voice so quiet she was surprised (and annoyed) she heard it at all.

"Could you be as kind as to leave me alone?" she asked without turning around, outstretching her fingers so her hands would not curl up into fists.

"I have never left you," Teague murmured grimly and she jumped upon feeling his breath on her neck. When she turned around he was standing so close she had to take a step away from him to be able to straighten her shoulders.

"I'm not interested in your distorted memories. Keep your self-made-up legends to yourself," Celeste said through her teeth, shooting him a condescending look and making to leave.

She gasped when he grabbed her, his gnarled fingers closing around her wrist, his eyes dark and bright at the same time, the contradiction that edged itself into her memory so well that it almost hurt to look into his eyes now, for it felt as if she was plunged back into the past, into the traitorous magic of his words, his touch.

"I know you must think me repulsive now," he said in a low voice, his lips barely moving, his grip loosening, "with this face of crisscrossing decades running as deep as scars. I do not mean to torment you-"

"Repulsive?" She cut him off with a bitter, humorless sneer. "It's your actions or inactions that I find repulsive, nothing else," she said, not really knowing why she actually bothered to clarify that.

He fell silent and something glimmered in his eyes even though her own eyes remained unforgiving but what she realized too late was that it was not the look in her eyes that mattered but the fact that she held his gaze, that she did not look away, that she was still standing there, staring at him.

His fingers remained closed around her wrist but so lightly that it would take the slightest of efforts to snatch her hand free. Maybe it was what he waited for right now but somehow the possibility did not occur to her and she became aware if his touch again only when his hand moved from her wrist upwards, sliding toward her arm with bruising force until it stopped on her shoulder, jerking her forward. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was feverish to push him away but what she expected to happen never happened and instead of kissing her he just closed her in his embrace, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She froze amidst the flames that were dancing before her eyes, so bright and tall she could not see anything; she could just feel his lips against her skin, doing nothing, just pressing a silent kiss that would not end, would not become anything else.

"I didn't love you beautifully enough, gently enough, happily enough, but I did love you."

The words drifted to her from behind the flames, tears stinging her eyes, and she struggled to open them.

But when she did, he was already gone, and she could only hear the sound of his heavy, uneven steps vanishing into silence.

* * *

"We won't be wasting time waiting for those who aren't interested in important matters," Elizabeth muttered, splaying the map over the table with Gibbs' help.

"Maybe I'll go find him?" Christelle offered helpfully but Elizabeth stopped her with a smile.

"Thank you, Mother, but we don't need all the Captains to plot one course," Elizabeth said, sitting down next to her parents, Blaxton climbing on a chair nearby, his eyes never straying away from the map.

Governor Swann took his wife's hand in his and squeezed it lightly; they exchanged a smile.

Somebody knocked on the door and it was pushed open. Will walked inside, asking if he could take part in the plotting of the course.

"Jack should be here in a moment too," he said, sitting down.

Elizabeth looked at him questioningly but he did not say anything more.

* * *

"Is it something _that_ urgent?" Jack asked, with a frown, following the dark-haired woman up onto the deck.

She turned around, her eyes ablaze. "Is it urgent?" Angelica mocked him. "Are you asking me if this is urgent?" she said, her voice rising to a dangerous level that caused several crew members to take notice.

Jack squinted, glancing around. "Well-"

"My ship is gone," she said, pointing to where her ship and the _Empress_ had been, now reduced to orange flames and the awful sound of crackling wood. "And I'd like to know why."

Jack widened his eyes at her, baffled. "How am I to know that?"

Angelica crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you might consider it a fair revenge," she said levelly, studying his face with sudden intensity that evaporated when she noticed the confused look on Jack's face. "Well," she continued hastily, "if you don't know why this happened I guess I should consider the other possibility," she said, her eyes traveling to her burning ship, her gaze half-thoughtful, half-grim.

"You should've started with the other possibility," Jack observed, squinting. "Whatever that is."

She shifted her eyes to him. "Where are your manners Jack?" she asked tilting her head to the side. "You didn't even welcome me aboard," she said, a sultry smile playing about her lips.

Jack returned the smile. "You're changing the subject, darling."

"I hoped you might be drunk enough not to notice that," Angelica said dispassionately, looking away.

"As you can see, I'm more sober than ever," Jack said, extending his arms.

"That may be true," she muttered, looking him up and down. "Which would be odd but then, I've only heard odd rumors concerning you, as of late."

"Villanueva is a resentful man but I wouldn't suspect him of lying," Jack said, his nose twitching in a small, complacent smile.

Angelica regarded him coolly. "I'm not talking about those rumors," she almost snorted.

Jack looked offended. "It isn't a rumor. We did find the Fountain of Youth."

She smirked. "Yes, _that's_ what I was talking about." Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "_We_."

"Ah." He smiled even thought the smile did not reach his eyes. "I'd never think it takes one wedding to impress the entire world."

"You would've done that earlier if you knew that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen."

Jack half-turned, his eyes meeting Teague's impenetrable gaze.

"Well then, I'll leave you two to discuss the good, old times," Jack smiled and walked off. "And you may even throw each other overboard afterwards," he mumbled under his breath.

* * *

With the course set, Elizabeth with her parents and Blaxton went to check on Lillian who had fallen asleep shortly after they had stepped on board.

The little girl's cheeks were stained with tears, her face pressed into the pillow, her small hands curled into first, tucked under her chin.

"Somebody should be here when she wakes up. It's not even afternoon yet. She must have been simply exhausted from crying and she may wake up soon," Christelle said softly, offering to stay in the cabin with Lillian.

"We'll stay here together," Governor Swann said quietly, his heart clenching in his chest at the sudden realization that watching over the little girl together may remind them of what they had missed… But perhaps it was what they needed, what Christelle needed - making up for the lost time in whatever way fate would allow.

Elizabeth must have understood it that way too because she looked at Lillian and then smiled a bit sadly and wrapped her arms around her mother, snuggling her face into her hair. They stood for a longer while in silence, and when Elizabeth drew back she could see tears glimmering in Mrs. Swann's eyes.

"I'm so happy you're here," Elizabeth whispered, taking Christelle's hands in hers, and smiling through her own tears that she quickly wiped off with the back of her hand.

They embraced once again and then Elizabeth and Blaxton quietly left the cabin, leaving Lillian in Christelle and Weatherby's care.

* * *

James stood by the rail, closing his eyes against the light breeze, breathing in the fresh, sea-soaked air and listening to the sound of waves interlaced with words shouted between the crew members, words so familiar that merely listening to them felt like home.

He briefly thought of helping the crew but then decided, with a thrilling sense of dread at such utterly selfish choice, that standing idly by the rail, as far away from anyone as possible, and daydreaming was something he was enjoyed doing right now much more. He smiled to himself again at the thought and opened his eyes, watching the sunlight drape itself over the water surface. _Her fingers feel that way too… like sun rays…_

"Is that the key to life?"

James' thoughts dispersed into the wind surrounding him and he slowly averted his eyes from the sea.

"Not to fear death?"

The voice was as menacing as he remembered, with some words stressed in that strange, ominous way that made cold shiver run up one's spine.

But when James turned around it was not Davy Jones he remembered that stood before him but an ordinary sea-man with keen eyes and worn-out hands, his dark, greenish hat casting a shadow over his face.

"Perhaps," James said slowly. "Unless it is life that you fear."

* * *

Once in his cabin, Blaxton ran to his bed, and slumping to the ground quickly lifted a loose floorboard to check if his hiding place's contents were intact. Making sure everything was fine, he replaced the floorboard and jumped to his feet right when Elizabeth walked in.

She bit back an amused smile, pretending she had not seen anything.

They spent a few minutes tidying the cabin, asking each other questions about what they had been doing while being apart. Elizabeth could sense Blaxton's mood changing when he was recalling the violent attack he had witnessed, and she suspected it was largely due to the fact that it was a _pirate_ attack and he still could not comprehend the idea.

"Mum?"

Elizabeth sat down next to Blaxton who had climbed onto his bed, and looked at him concernedly. She was about to reassure him that if he wished he did not need to stay in his cabin but could be temporarily relocated to the Captain's Quarters where he could sleep in a hammock, the one in which he had practiced sleeping not so long ago. An oil lamp could stay alight throughout the night, and-

"Mum… did you really… kill Dad?"

The question blew over Elizabeth's like a gust of icy-cold wind. For a moment she just stared at her son, half-hoping she only imagined the words, suddenly terrified despite having prepared herself for this conversation after Davy Jones' ominous claim that he had told Blaxton _the truth_.

Still searching her mind for an answer Elizabeth shook her head. "It's a long story," she said in a blank, hollow voice, almost choking on the words, trying to hold Blaxton's gaze, as if her eyes could possibly convey what she was not sure how to explain-

"And an impressive one at that."

Elizabeth shuddered, startled. Suddenly, there were Jack's arms sneaking around her from behind, his palms sliding down her forearms and closing around her wrist, his fingers intertwining with hers.

Turning more toward his parents, Blaxton sat on his heels, but Elizabeth was too numbed by this particular conversation actually happening to pay attention to the fact that Blaxton was now sitting on the bed with his dirty boots on.

"You should've seen Mum closing those shackles, so soundlessly, without even stealing a glance downwards," Jack continued in a voice that made it seem as if he could hardly contain his enthusiasm. Peering from behind Elizabeth's shoulder, he pulled her stiff form deeper into his embrace, pressing his warm cheek to her cool one as he spoke. "Nobody else could possibly do that. Not even Teague with those needling eyes of his," Jack said with a twitch of his nose. "Nobody's fingers are as pretty and deft as Mum's," he said with a wink, raising Elizabeth's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

Darting her eyes to Blaxton, Elizabeth noticed with astonishment that he straightened up and was now listening to Jack with utmost excitement.

"How did you do that Mum?"

That strange shadow of sadness was completely gone from his eyes and face, replaced by the familiar sense of wonder and respect that she had feared was to be lost forever.

Elizabeth swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak but somehow she still could not find the right words, her throat dry, memories rushing to her mind in their original form that inconveniently lacked he ebullient heroism that Blaxton had probably expected to hear about.

"Well, Mum can't very well reveal all her secret skills just like that," Jack said in a conspirational whisper, fiddling with Elizabeth's hand in his. "Or can you, love?" he asked, drawing back a little, and looking at Elizabeth with warm, calm eyes that seem to emanate reassurance. She smiled weakly, closing her fingers around his hand.

"No, I'm afraid I can't," she said somewhat timidly, looking back to Blaxton who did not seem to notice the lack of energy in her voice, more focused on the accomplishment itself.

He seemed to ponder this for a moment and then asked:

"But… why?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Jack's eyes narrow, and for a moment she though that now he was also at a loss for explanation but her suspicions could not be more wrong.

Jack leaned forward, causing Blaxton to lean forward as well. "That was the point," Jack stage whispered, winking.

Elizabeth bit her lip, blinking, and looked at Blaxton who did not seem to understand the explanation either but made his best not to let it show.

But then, suddenly, to Elizabeth's (and Jack's) surprise, Blaxton's face brightened. "Dad wanted to _sneak_ into the Locker!" he exclaimed, almost bouncing in delight.

"Aye, that was _exactly_ the plan," Jack said immediately, grinning.

Elizabeth smiled uncertainly, not sure if making up yet another story was the best course of action. On the other hand, there really was not any other sensible way to explain to a six-year-old child what had happened that day.

"And you didn't want Davy Jones to know that you _wanted_ to get into the Locker," Blaxton continued weaving the story, and although Elizabeth was pleased that he was smiling again, she was not sure she liked the idea of this particular story becoming his favorite one.

"That's right." Jack said matter-of-factly, trying to think of a reason why he would have wanted to get into the Locker, anticipating such a question to be asked any moment but it so happened that Blaxton suddenly remembered about another detail.

"But… if you wanted to get into the Locker… why did you try to row away from the iBlack Pearl/i?" Blaxton drew a breath. "And from Mum?"

Elizabeth looked at Jack, noticing that he was not very thrilled to be asked that particular question. She stirred, straightening up, and half-humouredly giving Jack, for a change, a superior look.

He furtively narrowed his eyes at her but then Elizabeth leaned toward Blaxton and said in an appropriately secretive tone: "Dad wanted to drag the Kraken away from the iBlack Pearl/i and from everyone on board, that's why he took the longboat and started rowing away so he would sneak into the Locker on his own, and not on board the ship."

Jack's mouth twitched.

"Ohh," Blaxton nodded in complete understanding. "But it didn't work," he said with a compassionate sigh.

Elizabeth nudged Jack who quickly cleared his throat. "Aye. It turned out the beastie wasn't interested in swallowing a dinghy."

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle while Blaxton wanted to ask another question but then Gibbs walked into the cabin with a very strange expression on his face.

"I'm sorry for interrupting but it seems that we have a guest…"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "A guest or a stowaway? This ship is crowded enough. If you found a stowaway please request him to walk the plank. We're still near the shore. If he isn't missing any vital limbs, he has every chance of successfully making it back to port."

Elizabeth laughed.

"I've never seen anyone walk the plank!" Blaxton exclaimed, struck by the realization.

Gibbs waved his hands, silencing them all. "You don't understand-"

He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder and then slowly stepping to the side, letting the person behind him to walk in.

At first, all the Sparrows seemed perplexed at the sight of a man standing in the doorway but as soon as the person spoke, they knew exactly who the stranger was, and they just stared at Davy Jones in silence.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Thank you so much for all amazing reviews & I'm very sorry for such a late update. RL is being very greedy these past months ;) But rest assured, I'm planning on finishing the story this year lol

I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer! :)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 29**

Jack stood while Elizabeth pulled Blaxton toward her, wrapping her arms around him protectively.

"To what do we owe the displeasure?" Jack asked, his eyes flickering to Gibbs who shrugged with quizzical indifference, standing in the doorway behind Jones.

"I came to discuss a certain entanglement of circumstances," Davy Jones said dispassionately, slightly straightening up which did not keep his shoulders from hunching a little. His human face somehow still resembled that distorted mask it had been, but the similarity had a quality of a shadow, and something else seemed to prevail, rendering his features oddly vibrant and proud.

"Discuss?" Jack widened his eyes at Gibbs when Jones turned and walked toward the window.

Gibbs walked off as noiselessly as possible while Elizabeth glanced at the unexpected guest over her shoulder, still shielding Blaxton with her arms locked around him.

"Conjuring up storms, inflicting bodily harm and torturing the souls of the dead are no longer amusing enough?" Jack asked with a wry smile, exchanging a look with Elizabeth.

Davy Jones stopped near the window and remained silent for a few more seconds before turning around, his grey, watery eyes wary and tired at the same time. "That was Calypso's price for my return and I can't say I didn't share the rage," he spoke in an even, detached tone as if he was recounting something utterly insipid both to him and to his listeners. "But now it's changed, now I can see… that her reasons differed from mine, and the difference in too great or too searing, like a festering wound, and I can't bring myself to fulfilling her requests anymore."

Blaxton looked up at Elizabeth but she only lightly shook her head in response.

"We're deeply moved," Jack said before he could stop himself, receiving a warning look from Elizabeth.

Jones swirled around, and for a moment his face looked exactly like the merciless face of the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ he had once been. "I could've killed you all," he stage-whispered in a cold voice, holding Jack's gaze.

"I have learned to disregard theoretical threats," Jack shot back, and Elizabeth decided it was time to interfere.

"What is this all about?"

Jack and Jones' eyes darted to her.

"I offer you an accord," Jones said, looking straight at her.

Jack's eyes flickered between Davy Jones and Elizabeth repeatedly. "What kind of accord?" he asked brusquely, his hand traveling to his pistol which made Blaxton's eyes flash to the loose floorboard where his own effects were hidden.

"I will help you defeat Calypso-" Jones' started.

"We don't want to defeat Calypso," Jack cut him off, narrowing his eyes at him in suspicion.

"Jack."

_One._ Jack gave Elizabeth a questioning look. "Is there any specific reason for which we'd like to defeat Calypso?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Is there any specific reason why we wouldn't?"

Jack opened his mouth and closed it, trying to process the question.

"Calypso is the sea," Blaxton observed, taking advantage of a moment of silence.

Davy Jones' eyes flared briefly.

"He's the sea," Jack countered, waving a dismissive gesture at Davy Jones in what he hoped would serve as both a joke and a flattery.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Who told you that?" she asked, looking at Blaxton who pursed his lips, searching his memory.

"Grandpa Teague said that-"

"She placed a curse upon your family," Davy Jones interrupted heatedly, causing Elizabeth to regard him carefully. Taking a quick, deep breath he continued. "Do you prefer watching it unravel for the rest of eternity?"

It seemed to have taken Jack quite a while to realize Davy Jones was speaking to him. "Eternity is a very long time, mate. In fact, it is so unimaginably long that I'm rather glad I don't have to imagine it at all."

"Jack."

_Two._ Furtively, Jack curled up his thumb and forefinger, counting. The third time he would hear his name spoken in _that tone_ would be the time to stop talking.

"Calypso wanted Grandpa Teague to become the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_," Blaxton recalled, undeterred.

Davy Jones' face darkened but he did not move, did not say anything.

"What a popular story this has become," Jack said dryly, glancing up at Elizabeth. "He must have come up with it when my Mum broke his nose. Blood rush does that."

"Jack."

_Three._ Jack twitched his nose.

"Would you rather be killed by Calypso's rage or listen to me?" Davy Jones asked darkly, although there was a strange discrepancy between his voice that would always sound to Jack like thundering rain amidst which he had traded his immortal soul for his invincible ship – and his face, so simply human now, hiding sad secrets but no discernible menace.

"It depends what you have to say."

"Jack."

_Four!_

Blaxton slid off Elizabeth's lap and joined Jack sensing that his dad was losing his footing and apparently wishing to support him.

"How do we know your intentions are sincere?" Elizabeth asked in that haughty tone that Jack both loathed and found indecently thrilling.

Elizabeth gracefully rose to her feet, turning to face Davy Jones.

"I have my own reasons, sincere or not. You are of no interest to me. Even revenge is of no interest to me," he added in a lower voice as if the words were some sort of a revelation, even to him. "All I want is to end this, end this all."

"Sounds sincerely ominous," Jack muttered, shooting Elizabeth a hurt look when she gave him a wordless look that screamed _Jack_.

For the fifth time.

Not good.

* * *

"That's what I've heard," James finished recounting what he knew about Jack's past and his deal with Davy Jones.

He looked worriedly at Celeste who was staring out of the window with unseeing eyes.

Christelle also looked at her while Weatherby cleared his throat, a deep frown on his face.

Angelica, one hand tangled in her hair, cocked her head to the side, glancing at Teague from under her eyelids. Teague, who was sitting in the far corner of the cabin, regarded the scene in silence.

"Shouldn't we check if everything is alright with Elizabeth and Jack?" Christelle asked after a longer moment of silence, shifting her eyes between everyone.

"As strange as it may sound, I don't believe Jones poses a threat to us right now," James said slowly. "I'd rather worry about the more… mundane complications." His eyes flickered to Angelica for the briefest of seconds but she caught his look nonetheless.

"I prefer being accused openly rather than stealthily," she snapped, throwing her head to the side.

James seemed sincerely baffled. "Beg pardon?"

The sharp tone shook Celeste out of her thoughts and she glanced at Teague whose eyes seemed to be laughing, but it was a dark, not an amused kind of laughter that she came to associate with jealousy. However, this time it seemed to have been ignited by a different emotion.

"That ship you're accused of burning down," Angelica said in a tone that refused any possibility of feeling intimidated. "It was me and my crew's doing." The words were so unexpected that it was only until she continued that understanding dawned on everyone. "The price was fair." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, although it was impossible to tell from her expression if it was nervousness or mere irritation. "It doesn't matter now. We were promised protection that seems to have been very short lasting."

"Such arrangements usually end poorly for inconvenient witnesses," James offered in a low voice and Celeste wondered briefly how his voice could be so calm upon hearing such outrageous explanations. But after a quick look on his face she realized his voice was not calm. It was steady. Steady enough to allow everyone else to panic if they wanted to.

Celeste bit her lip, fighting a sudden urge to run to him and lock herself in her arms. An image flashed across her mind and for some reason she was certain it was a completely plausible one. How wonderful it would be to flail her arms and scream while he would simply comb his fingers through her hair, whispering her name with a soft smile… instead, for instance, of being told in a tired murmur to be quiet.

Christelle stared at Angelica in dismay. "How could anyone agree to such a crime?"

"You just need to practice agreeing to crimes, starting with least significant ones," Teague put in, his eyes twinkling with bitter humor that for a moment left Christelle baffled.

He slowly shifted his eyes to Angelica who did not immediately look at him. "I see we're headed into the horizon of complete honesty?" she mocked his grave tone, glancing at him with a snort.

"Are you saying," Governor Swann interrupted, his eyebrows furrowed, "that you have committed crimes that we are being accused of?" he asked to clarify what he was too appalled to conclude without a clear confirmation.

"People die every day," Angelica retorted flatly. "It's not equally easy to survive at sea as it may be in other places," she added piercingly.

"I'm afraid _frame_ would be a more accurate word for it," James set, giving Weatherby a sad half-smile. "Official accusations are only a designed aftermath."

"I didn't know it was the _Black Pearl_ that was going to be blamed," Angelica amended.

"Does that make any difference?" Celeste said quietly, and it might have been the first time Angelica actually looked back at her.

She smiled briefly, sourly. "I thought it might."

"Well, if we can identify the source of the conspiracy we can also decide on whom to contact in order to exonerate us," Governor Swann reasoned out loud, squeezing his wife's hand in reassurance.

"I'm not a nark," Angelica said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Unlike some," she added, with a look directed at Teague that Celeste tried to decode but to no avail.

"You may need to become one," Teague said in his darkly melodic, off-key voice. "To survive."

It sounded almost like a threat and Celeste wondered how anyone could be jealous of a threat. She immediately gathered her composure, recalling her former, alluring dreams of peace and safety, contrasting them with her gritty memories.

Unfortunately, there was a problem with all the gritty memories that she had.

"_Be quiet, will you?" His voice was harsh and exasperated but she was too disturbed by what she had learned to care._

_She shouted at him and then…_

_A vase – his grandmother's vase – landed on the floor in front of him. In several pieces. For a moment he just stared at the shards with one of his boots in his hand, his other hand suspended in the air as he was about to pull his other boot off his foot._

_Celeste was standing not too far away from the bed on which he was sitting, her hands curled up into fists._

_It seemed to take half an eternity for Teague's gaze to travel from the pieces on the floor to her bare feet, her orange dress, a black ribbon wrapped around her waist, her necklace, lips and – finally – her eyes._

_She thrust up her chin in an attempt to feel more confident, although it did not quite work as long as he looked at her._

_When he finally averted his eyes, he lightly kicked one of the shards scattered on the floor and said evenly. "It was four hundred years old."_

"_You said your grandmother made it. It can't be four hundreds years old," Celeste retorted stiffly._

_A shadow of a smile flickered across his face. "You're quite sure about that?" he asked, rising to his feet, crushing the shards under his boot and his other foot that was already bare with equal indifference._

_He smiled again at the feebly horrified expression that appeared on her face. "I will forgive you for this on one condition."_

"_I don't-" She started defiantly but he silenced her by placing the back of his hand against her lips._

"_One kiss for every piece."_

_She was very good at not smiling even when every fiber of her body was laughing. "Alright," she said when he stepped back, her voice betraying nothing and everything._

_He did not acknowledge her response with another word. Instead, to her bafflement, he left the room only to return a few moments later with a hammer._

_She blinked but then, despite her greatest efforts she could not help but laugh when he started breaking each piece into dozens and then hundreds of smaller ones._

The problem with all her memories was that they were all, more often than not, two-fold.

* * *

"This cabin is called Nassau," Blaxton explained, opening the door.

Davy Jones went inside, looking around the sun-lit interior.

"This is ludicrous," Jack mumbled, giving Elizabeth yet another meaningful look.

Elizabeth grabbed him by his sleeve, drawing him backwards, and narrowing her eyes at him when he pretended to stumble. "Isn't it better to keep everyone in sight?" she asked in a whisper, glancing between Jack and Blaxton who was showing Davy Jones the cabin, even though he did not seem very enthusiastic about it.

"I'm afraid your logic surpasses mine, love," Jack whispered, twitching his nose. "We can keep him in sight by putting him in the brig. Should tucking him in a spatial cabin with plush chairs appear more rational to me?"

"He's hardly going to help us if we throw him into the brig, don't you think?" Elizabeth asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Jack's skepticism did not waver. "I feel the need to point out to you, Lizzie, that whatever you think makes him harmless enough to keep him here, makes him also useless in any confrontation-"

Elizabeth dragged Jack a step further away from the cabin's open door. "If _you_ want to do something useful, Jack, find Will and ask him about the dagger," she whispered through her teeth. "The only danger may come from Jones having the dagger."

"What if our involuntary fugitive doesn't have that dagger anymore?"

"Involuntary fugitive?" Elizabeth repeated, wrinkling her forehead in confusion.

Jack was about to reply but was cut off by Will appearing from around the corner.

"Is everything alright?" Will asked, looking between them, and then fixing his gaze at the silhouette of Davy Jones inside a nearby cabin. "So it's true," she said under his breath, stunned.

"Truth is this ship's middle name," Jack said, waving his hand at Blaxton who ran toward them, leaving Davy Jones alone in Nassau.

"Does he have to stay here?" Blaxton asked with a small pout that accidentally backed up Jack's former doubts, to his visible satisfaction.

"Sweetheart," Elizabeth squatted down, looking Blaxton straight in the eye. "You don't need to be afraid of him-"

"I'm not afraid," Blaxton protested, clearly offended by the supposition.

"Is it because all those lies he told you?" Jack risked a guess, pronouncing the word "lies" as if it was the most dreadful idea imaginable, which earned him a narrow-eyed look from Elizabeth.

Blaxton nodded firmly. Elizabeth hugged him briefly and stood up.

"Master Turner." Davy Jones joined them, his voice carrying a blank sense of wonder.

Will did not say anything. Merely straightened up, returning Davy Jones' gaze.

A flicker of a very faint smile passed across Davy Jones face. "Ménagerie à trios. I should have thought of that myself. Might have save me some painful choices," Davy Jones said, looking between Jack, Elizabeth and Will before turning to walk back to the cabin, rendering everyone speechless with what seemed to be the first manifestation of his sense of humor any of them had a doubtful pleasure of witnessing.

There was a longer moment of silence.

"What's ménagerie à trios?" Blaxton asked, struggling with the words and apparently finding the sound of them funny.

Jack twitched his nose. "It's a kind of fish."

Elizabeth very slowly turned her head to look at him.

"Now, go find Grandma Celeste for me," Jack said, promptly changing the subject. "I'd like to talk to her," Jack said, and Blaxton happily went to complete the errand.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Will said, ignoring the latest part of the conversation. "He can't be trusted."

"I have mentioned that already," Jack observed dryly.

Elizabeth did not manage to say anything because Blaxton returned almost as soon as he had left.

"Dad! I found Grandma," Blaxton came back running.

"Thank you, sailor. Did you tell her that I want to talk to her?" Jack asked, about to head into that direction but then stopped in his tracks when Blaxton shook his head.

"I'll tell her when she and uncle James finish kissing," Blaxton explained matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth blinked and closed her eyes because she was quite certain she did not need to see the expression that appeared on Jack's face.


	30. Hiatus

**Hiatus**

I was hoping it wouldn't come to this but I'm afraid the moment has come. Maybe I shouldn't have started writing this story in the first place... At the beginning it was merely the lack of time but RL has been too much for me to handle these past weeks & it's just not possible for me to continue writing this story anymore. I'm not saying that I will never finish it but right now I can't promise that I will either. I want to thank you all for reading & for all the amazing, thoughtful, wonderful reviews that always made me so happy. I'm sorry for abandoning this story & once again, thank you SO MUCH for everything *hugs*


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